


Through Thick and Thin (We Stick Together)

by Jinx72



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Allusions to Suicide, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguments, Attempted Suicide, Discussion of suicide (in the later chapters), Dogs, Food mentions (but glossed over as requested), Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Initally dismissive parents, Korean Virgil, M/M, Mentions of Death, Multi, Patton and Toby are kids in this AU, Roman and Remus have an argument early on that looks like it will turn really bad, Running Away, Running away from home, Sexual Themes, Some Memes - Freeform, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, Swearing, Talk of adoption, adhd remus, but i promise it resolves, discussion of college/tertiary education, poor mental health, this fic follows them through highschool and college and stuff so there's a solid talk about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 36,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21916312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jinx72/pseuds/Jinx72
Summary: Remus is an odd case. He was never as much of a people-pleaser as his brother, but he was odd in other ways, too. Like how his soulmarks appear when he is very young, AND! He has three! Three whole soulmates!As his life continues, trying to get through college and adult life, it gets hard to keep his priorities straight, for allfourto. But! With his best friends and soulmates, Dante, Virgil, and Logan, by his side, there should be nothing they can't take! ...Right?After all, they promised to stick together.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 98
Kudos: 434
Collections: Sanders Sides Secret Santa 2019





	1. Chapter 1

Remus was a weird case. He’d been told this over and over again, ever since he was young.   
He was less...  _ appealing  _ than his brother, sure. But one of the ‘weirdest’ things about him by far was that he had not one _ , _ but  _ three _ soulmate markings on the belly of his forearm.   
Another weird thing about him was that they appeared when he was  _ eight years old, _ and generally, people’s soulmarks didn’t appear until they were at least sixteen.   
The other weird thing was the fact that he’d managed to meet one of his soulmates when he was eight, too.

He didn’t end up having very long to ponder over the first sentence, inked into his skin in a dark yellow, which read: “Stop burying all the dinosaurs!”   
It turned out that Dante was very attached to the school’s toy dinosaurs, and was quite upset to see Remus trying to give his favourite stegosaurus a burial.   
So when Remus looked up to see his fellow classmate - a cute boy with dark curly hair, mismatched eyes, and a birthmark over half his face, with his hands on his hips and a pout on his lips - and the first line of words on his arm started burn-glowing a golden yellow, Remus didn’t even have to look. He  _ knew _ . Especially when the words that blurted out of Remus’ mouth set this boy’s wrist aglow with a most wonderfully ugly neon green.    
“Oh yeah? And whatcha gonna do about it?”   
They stared at each other for a moment, eyes wide, before Remus’ face split into a wide grin.   
“Hi!” he chirped. “I’m Remus.”   
The boy stared at him for a moment longer, before he plopped down on the grass next to him and, after a moment, smiled back.   
“Hi,” he mumbled back, “I’m Dante.”   
Remus smiled so wide he his eyes closed, raising his chin so the sunlight lit up his face. He reached down to pull the stegosaurus out of the dirt and plopped it back down in front of Dante.   
“Soulmates or not,” he declared, taking Dante’s hand and swinging it between them, “we’re gonna be  _ best friends!” _ _  
_ Dante’s answering smile was small and sweet.   
“I’ve never had a friend before.”   
“Me neither! My brother says they’re pretty cool though.”   
Dante squeezed his hand.   
“Remus,” he said, like he was committing it to heart.   
“Dante,” Remus repeated in kind, and it felt like something yellowy-warm settled across his shoulders at the sound. “We’re gonna stick together, right?”   
Dante’s smile widened.   
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we are.”


	2. Chapter 2

School was hard. School was very hard for Remus in particular, especially when he was constantly berated for being unable to sit still (even though he lowkey suspected it might be ADHD - not that his parents would believe him), his brother was  _ such _ an overachiever, and his parents were so very disappointed in him because he didn’t succeed as much as Roman. But who  _ cared _ ?   
He didn’t.   
He taught himself guitar instead of something ‘productive’, scraped through all his classes because he had to (except art, he  _ loved _ art), and sat at the back of the classroom with his feet kicked up on his desk, sketchbook in his lap. He would occasionally shoot glances at Dante who sat at the desk next to him, tapping away at his laptop. And Remus knew for a fact that he was writing fanfiction rather than doing schoolwork.   
Life hadn’t been great to them, really. Remus supposed, in the grand scheme of things, it was fine _. _ But Remus felt like shit a lot, and Dante was the one thing keeping him going. And now they had two years of high school left and then…   
Remus had  _ no idea _ what he was going to do. Dante had an idea, though (one that he refused to tell him about just yet), so Remus was content to wait.   
And, of course, they both had two other soulmates to meet.   
The lunch bell rang, and teenagers were streaming out the door before the teacher could even think about issuing homework.   
Dante and Remus scooped up their bags and booked it for the cafeteria.

Dante managed to score their usual table as Remus split off to grab their lunches, and before too long they had collapsed in the corner, observing the room. Remus ignored the table his brother sat at, full of popular rich kids. Remus wasn’t sure how Roman had ever managed to rub elbows with them but hey! Good for him. He guessed.  
It was the next person that walked in that caught both Remus and Dante’s attention.  
He was new, obviously. Clothed in black and purple, three piercings per ear, eyeliner smudged deliberately under his eyes, shoulders set at an unfriendly hunch, hair half-covering his face in too-long, scraggily bangs dyed purple, bright eyes flitting across the lively room in a distrustful scowl, before the stranger quickly fetched his lunch and pointedly ignored the popular clique trying to call him over. A smile split Remus’ face at the sight of Roman _hmph-_ ing at the back of this stranger’s head as he doggedly walked past.  
“I like that one,” he commented to Dante as the stranger passed their table, scouring the outside of the room for somewhere to sit. “He’s got good judgement.”  
Dante opened his mouth to say something, but the two of them jolted in alarm when the new kid loudly exclaimed, “what the _fuck_.”  
The belly of Remus’ forearm burn-glowed purple, and the stranger spun on his heels to find Remus cackling _._ _  
_“Ah!” he crowed. _“You’re_ the one who taught me how to swear when I was eight!”  
The stranger grimaced in poorly-hidden confusion.  
Dante shook his head with a smile.  
“How about you join us? Plenty of space,” he offered, gesturing to the free seats across the table, and they blinked as the kid grasped at his collarbone with a hissing gasp.  
“Fuck,” he stated dumbly. “The two of you at once?”  
Dante pulled down his sleeve to watch the purple shine on his wrist, before turning back and raising one eyebrow in that way that made Remus weak.  
The new kid rubbed his face and laughed at himself.  
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Uh, sorry for permanently tattooing swear words onto your bodies.”  
Remus patted the table, and felt a swell of satisfaction as the boy sat across from him, _willingly_. He could almost feel Roman’s glare burning a hole in the back of his head.  
“Well,” he shrugged, “mine will look good on a CV. Next job interview, just show them that.”  
The boy laughed, and it was a low, growly laugh than made his eyes glitter and oh my _god,_ Remus would commit this moment to heart because this stranger, this perfect stranger, _his_ perfect stranger, was going to be a part of his life from this moment on.  
“The name’s Remus,” he said, sticking out his hand over the table, you know, like soulmates do, “and I bet we’re going to get on like a house on fire, soulmates or no.”  
The boy raised one eyebrow at him, but took his hand firmly.  
“Virgil,” he replied.  
Dante and Virgil shook hands as well, all of them echoing each other’s names like their lives counted on it.  
 _Dante_. Dante felt like the warm yellow of summer evenings, sitting on a car bonnet and watching the sun set over the hills and thinking _isn’t this the life._ _  
_ _Virgil._ Virgil felt like a smothering indigo weight, like hot chocolate on a freezing day when all you can do is wrap up in as many blankets you own, hunker down to share body warmth, and giggle as the snow falls outside.  
Remus couldn’t help but smile.  
“So, gorgeous,” he winked. “Can I get a phone number out of you?”  
Virgil laughed again, and Remus could hear the breath leaving Dante in a dazed rush – mirroring exactly how he felt.  
“Yeah,” the emo kid said with a smirk. “Fuck it. Sure.”

Oh, Remus always knew finding his other soulmates would be amazing, but he could never have been prepared for how well Virgil slotted into his life. He was the perfect amount of caution to Dante’s blasé, and to Remus’ own…  _ extreme _ . He was the perfect push to scrape some better grades. He was the perfect guide to keep him on the straight and narrow. He was the  _ perfect _ amount of thrill-seeking on a cold crisp night, spray cans in hand, pulling him into an alleyway and hunkering down to avoid security guards and giggling as they went down, tripping over nothing, falling onto the concrete, Virgil landing on top of Remus.   
As their lips slotted together, Virgil was  _ perfect. _ _   
_ This was, of course, not to say that Dante  _ wasn’t _ perfect, Remus had to reflect. Dante was perfect in a refined way, a neatly cut jewel which knows its own worth.   
Virgil was a rough and tumble kind of perfect; one that was like the ocean, in that he knew when to go and when to recede.    
Dante kept him going; Virgil kept him safe.

Remus took Dante to the movies, before driving out to the beach and sitting on the bonnet of his car, letting Dante admire the sunset as he admired Dante.   
“Dee,” he said softly. “I have something to… confess, I guess.”   
“What is it, Rem?” Dante said, turning to him with that wonderful twinkle in his mismatched eyes that had drawn Remus to him, what, nine years ago?   
“Virgil and I…” Remus rubbed the back of his head. “He kissed me, the other day.”   
Dante’s eyes glittered with something Remus couldn’t place.   
“That’s nice,” he said smoothly, and Remus could  _ tell _ there was something there, something in his tone that couldn’t quite hide how he was  _ upset _ .   
“It was,” Remus nodded, trying to smile. “You should try it sometime.”   
He sighed, drumming his fingers on his thigh.   
“But, actually, Dee?” he continued. “I kinda felt guilty.”   
Dante just looked at him for a moment, before the ghost of a wicked smile crossed his face.   
“And why’s that?” he asked softly, and he’d scooted closer, so close, their bodies were  _ so close _ , and Dante’s hand slipped across his cheek to delicately lace his fingers into Remus’ hair.   
“I felt guilty,” Remus whispered, eyes flicking to Dante’s lips and back, leaning in ever so slightly, “that it wasn’t you.”   
He watched those lips curve upwards.   
“I’m sure we can make up for it,” he breathed, words brushing Remus’ lips,  _ impossibly  _ close, and before he could even  _ begin to  _ think of a response, Dante pulled him close and-

Well, it was several years in the making, this kiss.

And it ended several moments later with Dante straddling his hips, having kissed his  _ brains _ out. Remus panted in an attempt to catch his breath, and, looking up at his soulmate and boyfriend, he couldn’t keep the dumb grin off his face.   
“I dunno,” he quipped. “I still feel guilty. Might need another go.”   
Dante tried to keep a straight face, he really did, but one traitorous snort made it out, and then the floodgates opened and Dante collapsed forward onto Remus’ chest in a fit of full-bodied laughter. Remus found himself wrapping his arms around his soulmate tightly, pressing kisses into his face and hair, giggling as Dante tried to stop laughing.   
Finally, they both fell still, Dante on top of Remus, comfortable in in his soulmate’s embrace. He looked up at Remus with the most adoring look, it stopped the breath in Remus’ throat.   
“Dante,” he whispered.   
“Remus,” Dante whispered back, and he crawled up and kissed him; slowly, sweetly, deeply. “I love you, Remus.”   
Remus’ breath hitched. That might’ve just been the first time  _ anyone _ had told him that.   
“I love you, Dante,” he breathed, capturing Dante’s face in his hands to properly kiss him again. “I always have, I always will. We stick together, eh?”   
Dante lips were touched with a nostalgic, wistful smile.   
“Yeah,” he replied, like he had the first time they met all those years ago. “We do.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A heads up, it gets a little physical for just a moment, but I promise this is not unsympathetic!Roman. It's just an argument that escalates.

Remus’ parents expected both Roman and him to go to college. When Remus tried to explain ‘no, no thank you, really,’ he got shouted at, then grounded – which he didn’t think they were legally allowed to do now that he was eighteen, but…   
He kicked at the bedpost.   
Whatever. Technicalities didn’t matter. So  _ what  _ if he had three soulmates and discovered it at such a young age it was a country-wide (they’d checked, it was one of the few things his parents had ever been impressed by) historical record? He hadn't gotten high enough grades to get any scholarships, and he wasn’t allowed to go to art school because his father insisted on him getting a ‘real degree’.   
When he pointed out that Roman was going to go to drama school, he was sent to his room.   
He heard shouting from downstairs for a solid two hours before Roman stormed in, practically in tears, to yell at him too. Because now Roman  _ wasn’t _ going to study drama, and he had to do a boring degree he didn’t want as well.   
“If you hadn’t said anything!” Roman screamed, face twisted and voice shrill, shoving him harshly until Remus fell back onto his bed, “I could’ve gotten away with it!”   
Remus smiled a sickly sweet smile.   
“Welcome to the real world, Roman,” he snapped, picking up his sketchbook from the bed where he’d been working before dinner. Standing, he shoved it into Roman’s chest, into his unwilling and uncaring hands, where his brother immediately let it fall with  _ just  _ as much dignity as Remus expected from him. “Haven’t you heard? People don’t get what they want.”   
Roman shouted at him some more. Remus zoned out.   
There was a sharp flash of pain that knocked his head to the side; then Roman was storming out of the room and Remus’ cheek was stinging. Remus blinked a few times as he realised Roman had slapped him.   
Well, probably not uncalled for, seeing as he had just dashed his brother’s dreams, but still…   
It hit him then, the difference between the two of them.   
Remus had been disappointed again and again in his life, and it felt like, over and over, he’d never actually landed anything he’d tried to do, ever.   
Roman had worked at and gotten everything he wanted and more. No one said ‘ _ no’ _ to Roman, no one  _ dared. _ The very notion of something not working out was foreign to Roman.   
Just another thing they ruined for each other, then.   
Remus  _ also  _ knew that Roman hated  _ him  _ for the fact that Roman hadn’t had his soulmate marking reveal itself yet. It was the only thing that Remus had over Roman, and out of the two of them,  _ Roman _ was the romantic. He’d been dreaming of his soulmate(s?) since Remus got his marks, and every year that went by, every birthday, he was more and more desperate.   
That wasn’t Remus’ fault, but it certainly didn’t stop everyone around him from acting like it was.

Remus rubbed his jaw and flopped down on his bed, back hitting the mattress with a  _ thump, _ and kicked at the bedpost again. Offhandedly, he brushed his art supplies idly onto the floor with a forced detachedness. He couldn’t have that anymore. Couldn’t ‘ _ waste his time _ ’ on such ‘ _ stupid things’ _ anymore.   
College. What did people study at college? He hadn’t even sat down and considered what he’d study because he was so set on either art school or nothing.   
He could learn a language? It sounded the most bearable, if he was honest. But he heard that after you get older, it’s way harder to learn languages, and he really didn’t care that much. All of his subjects from high school were insufferable. He couldn’t write well and he was bad at maths. What was he supposed to  _ do _ at university, where basically you either did numbers or writing, when you couldn’t do either?   
He didn’t realise there were tears silently dripping down his temples until he tried to rub the tiredness from his eyes.   
Maybe, he thought, he should go wherever Dante was going. Or Virgil. They’d been talking about it over lunches, where he’d zone out and power his way through his art projects as much as lunchtime would allow. Then, at least, his parents could only attempt to micromanage from a distance.

He rolled over on his bed and went fumbling for his phone. He, Virge, and Dee had a group chat, but as he started to type, his fingers froze and he could only stare down at the screen blankly as the tears continued to drip silently down his face.   
He put his phone down and sat up, staring out the window.   
He felt like… he wanted to run.   
What would his parents  _ do _ if he just booked it right now? They couldn’t exactly stop him, they thought he was just sulking in his room.   
He started to get off the bed, hesitating for just a moment.   
Then he stood fully, and grabbed his backpack from the foot of the bed. He emptied it of its previous contents before fetching his aforementioned sketchbook and pencil case – despite it all he couldn’t bear to travel without them – a change or two of clothes, the spare cash he had stashed away from when he’d play guitar on street corners, car keys (his parents had sent him to his room with them still in his pocket), phone charger, phone and the like. He zipped up his bag and threw it over his shoulder, before swiftly packing his guitar in its bag and slinging that over his other.   
Glancing towards the door, he swallowed a shaky breath and turned out his light. It wasn’t  _ that  _ uncommon for him to go to sleep early on nights like this. Hopefully, they shouldn’t suspect a thing.

Was this wise? How was he going to get back in afterwards?

Remus laughed a little, and hitched his bag a little higher on his shoulder. Since when did  _ he _ care about that?   
He opened his window and lowered his guitar out, letting his mother’s favourite rhododendron bush cushion his instrument, before straddling the windowsill.   
This was a new low for him.   
Remus rubbed his face, and decided he couldn’t care less.

He slipped outside, pulled his window closed and picked his guitar up, kicking the soft dirt back into place to hide his footprints as he snuck around the house to his (technically his and Roman’s, if Roman ever got his license) car, and got in as quietly as possible. His parents were watching an action movie, last he knew. It should cover any sound nicely.   
Heart in his throat, Remus started his car, eyes on the front door, waiting for it to be kicked open and all hell to break loose.   
Nothing.   
Remus eased the car into gear and pulled away down the drive, flicking the headlights on as he reached the end of the street, eyes on his house in the rearview mirror.   
Nothing.   
He turned the corner and kept his cool for a few moments more, before  _ gunning it. _

A couple hours later, Roman knocked on Remus’ door.   
“Rem?” he asked, voice low and thick. “You awake?”   
No reply, but that didn’t necessarily mean no.   
“I wanted to say,” Roman choked out, “I’m sorry. You were right. I’m sorry I hit you.”   
More silence.   
Roman frowned. Remus  _ could _ be asleep, but he personally considered it uncharacteristic for his brother to be asleep by nine. Plus, Remus wasn’t very good at ignoring people.   
Roman pushed Remus’ door open with its ever-present  _ creak. _ _   
_ The bed looked like someone was lying in it, but it was too still, too quiet. And Remus’ curtains were open.   
Roman flicked the lights on and strode across the room, throwing back the covers and staring in horror at the fact that Remus was  _ gone. _ __   
“Mom!” he shrieked, backpedalling out of the room. “Dad!”   
Two hours away, Remus was cackling to himself behind the steering wheel, trying to blink back tears of exhilaration and relief as he finally felt  __ free .


	4. Chapter 4

It didn’t take long for his phone to be flooded with texts. First from Roman, next his mother, and then his phone kept lighting up with phone calls, crying ‘ _ Dad! Dad! Dad!’ _ and Remus ignored them all with  _ glee. _ _   
_ Well, that and a lot of anxiety, but he was trying to focus only on that wondrous relief of  _ they can’t touch me right now. _ _   
_ Remus checked his location settings were off for the fourth time.   
He was, as far as he was concerned, in the clear.   
Now he just needed somewhere to go.   
Long car rides weren’t a big deal for Remus. He could drive and drive and drive, and honestly he could go a state over tonight if he really wanted, but he didn’t think he packed enough for that. No, this was a temporary getaway, and then when he got home everything would be  _ so much worse _ and his parents would probably get one of those awful,  _ awful _ tracking systems he’d heard about, and-   
He put his foot down and kept driving.

He wasn’t really sure where he was going, but soon he was on the highway and out of the city, pumping music up far louder than he should be to distract him from his buzzing phone as his smile grew and grew and he started to quietly, subtly, cry.   
Dante was out of town for the weekend, so he’d get back to hear what he’d gotten up to. Virgil was staying with his aunt for a month out of town as well, and-!   
Remus’ smile turned a little devious.   
He wondered if he could drop in on Virgil.   
Well, he didn’t want to leave the motorway yet, so he fumbled for his phone, turned down the music and negotiated his way through all the incoming messages to open the group chat and hit call, putting his phone into the holder that was suction-cupped to the inside of the windshield.   
It didn’t take more than a few seconds for both of them to pick up, and the confusion on their faces made Remus hoot with laughter.   
“Remus?” Dante asked, voice thick with confusion, the bright backdrop burning Remus’ eyes a little.   
“Where are you, dude?!” Virgil exclaimed, obviously catching sight of the passing streetlamps.   
“I don’t know!” Remus replied cheerfully. “How’re y’all doing tonight?”   
Dante went to reply, before he checked something in the background with a frown and swore loudly, before swinging back to the camera on his laptop with wide eyes.   
“Remus,” he demanded. “Roman just texted me. What the fuck are you doing?”   
“What does it look like I’m doing?” Remus crowed, shoulder-checking and changing lanes, flashing his soulmates a quick smile. “I’m running away.”   
There was a moment of tense, empty silence.   
“Run that by me again,” Dante said, voice high.   
“I’m…” Remus started, before rubbing his face with one free hand as he swore under his breath. “God, what am I doing? I just couldn’t stay anymore. Look, this is probably just for the weekend, maybe less. I couldn’t… I c-couldn’t…”   
Damn it, he was crying again.   
“It’s okay,” Virgil jumped in. “Look, I get that.”   
“My life’s gonna be  _ hell _ on Monday,” Remus muttered, forcing his eyes back on the road (like he  _ goddamn should) _ and sighing heavily. “Fuck, I’m so stupid.”   
“Where are you right now?”   
Remus read the names off the sign illustrating the next turn-off he passed.   
“If you take the next exit, you’ll end up in Hillsborough,” Virgil offered. “That’s where I’m staying right now.”   
Remus smiled, a genuinely soft smile.   
“I was half-hoping you’d offer,” he said, voice small.   
“And we can talk,” Virgil said.   
“Yeah,” Remus avoided looking at his phone. “Okay.”   
Dante glanced back down to the phone in his hand.   
“Dee, if you tell them where I am, I’m disowning you,” Remus threatened weakly. “Please… don’t?”   
“I wasn’t going to,” Dante exclaimed, horrified at the thought. “Jesus, Rem. You think that little of me?”   
Remus chuckled a little rubbing the heel of his palm under his eye roughly.   
“Sorry,” he replied quietly.   
“Don’t apologise,” Dante shook his head, before he looked down at his phone, frowned, and glanced up again.   
“Roman says he wants to apologise,” he read off the screen. “Won’t tell me what for. Apparently you know.”   
“Probably for hitting me,” Remus said idly, rubbing his jaw, which still hurt, honestly. Roman had a good slap on him.   
“He  _ hit _ you?!” Virgil gasped, eyes glittering with something dark as Remus saw the turn-off he wanted and headed for it, pulling off the freeway and onto a country road.   
“…Once,” Remus shrugged. “We had a fight. He’s not allowed to go to drama school and I’m not allowed to go to art school, and apparently it came up because I ratted him out or something.”   
There was another moment of silence.   
There were more  _ damn _ tears on his cheeks.   
That was probably the first time he said it out loud.   
_ He wasn’t allowed to go to art school. _ _   
_ “What do you mean  _ not allowed?” _ Dante echoed darkly.   
Remus shrugged again.   
“Dad said I need to get a ‘real degree’,” he replied, finger-quoting the last two words with one hand and trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “Virge, I’ve just turned off the motorway.”   
“…Cool. You’re like, an hour and a half away now,” Virgil replied. “I should tell my aunt you’re coming.”   
“Just ask if it’s okay,” Remus rushed. “I’m happy to sleep in the bathtub or something. If not, I can find somewhere else.”   
“You are  _ not _ sleeping in your car,” Virgil snapped protectively. “Hang tight. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”   
“Okay,” Remus said, and the two of them watched Virgil get up off his bed and hurry from the room.   
Then, Virgil came back a moment later.   
“Also Remus!” he demanded. “You’re on the highway! Turn your fucking video off! That’s terrifying!”   
Remus laughed, but Virgil cut him off.   
“No, I’m serious,” he asserted. “Do it now. You can’t stay the night if you crash and die, okay?”   
“Okay, okay,” Remus said, and he slowed down to a marginally safer speed and managed to turn his camera off, locking his screen so just the audio came through.   
“Better?” he asked.   
“Better,” Virgil confirmed. “Okay, I’ll be back in a moment.”   
And Remus heard him leave, and for a moment, empty silence hung in the air.   
“Rem?”   
Dante’s voice was soft.   
“Dee,” Remus whispered, the passion draining from his voice. “I’m so tired, Dee.”   
“I know,” Dante replied, and it sounded like Dante just wanted to hug him tight and not let go. “We need to talk.”   
“Well,” Remus said as he shuffled to get a bit more comfortable in his seat and readjusting his grip on the steering wheel. “I got an hour and a half to kill and only so many times I can listen to ‘Life Is A Highway’ on loop before the irony sets in.”   
Dante laughed a little at that, but it died out pretty quick.   
“Is now the best time to talk?”   
Remus deflated.   
“No,” he admitted. “Not really.”   
“That’s okay,” Dante declared as bravely as he could, and Remus melted at the sound. “I’m not texting Roman back, I’m not answering any calls. As far as they know, I’m asleep right now. Do you want me to act surprised when I get informed?”   
Remus shrugged. “It’s probably out of character for me to not tell you two something,” he said. “Mom says I never shut up about you two. Drives her up the wall. So I told you I’ve run, but not where I’m going.”   
“There’s evidence of this call log,” Dante warned.   
“Oh well,” Remus shrugged. “I haven’t told  _ you _ where I’m going. That’s not a lie.”   
Remus heard Virgil come back, speaking rapidly in Korean to what sounded like an older lady, faster than either of them could keep up with from the basic coaching Virgil had offered them a few months back.   
“Rem, she’s happy for you to come,” Virgil told him. “Auntie, I’d show you Remus but he’s driving so his camera’s off.”   
“Hello!” Remus chirped brightly.   
“And that’s Dante there,” Virgil told her.   
There was a beat of silence, where Remus could imagine that Virgil’s aunt was scrutinising the screen.   
“You my Virgil’s soulmates?” came her voice.   
“Yes,” Dante replied.   
“Howdy!” Remus offered.   
“Fine, fine,” she nodded. “You get here, send him the address, Virgil, and we’ll be waiting for you when you get here.”   
“Oh! No, you don’t have to do that, ma’am,” Remus immediately rushed.   
“What Remus means,” Dante smoothly cut overtop, “is that that is so wonderfully considerate of you, ma’am, thank you.”   
“No ma’ams!” she laughed. “My name’s Hyewon.”   
“Thank you, Hyewon,” Remus replied softly. “I’ll try not to keep you waiting.”   
“Just drive safe, boy,” she ordered, before a sound came across his phone’s speakers that sounded like she was placing a big kiss on Virgil’s cheek and then pattering footsteps of someone hurrying from the room.   
“Thanks, Auntie!” Virgil called after her.   
She shouted something back that Remus didn’t catch.   
“She’s a lovely lady,” Remus said after a beat of silence.   
“She is,” Virgil confirmed. “I’m fortunate to get to stay with her every so often. Oh, are you okay with dogs? She has two very large dogs who are the sweetest things but, like, freak some people out because-”   
“I  _ love _ dogs,” Remus interrupted. “Are you kidding me? I love them! I love them already. Tell me about Hyewon’s dogs.”

It was far less of a tedious trip, that way. The drive just flew by as they talked. His soulmates kept his spirits up in a most wonderful way that both kept Remus awake, and made him feel considerably less awful.   
“Alright, I’m turning on to Emlyn Street now,” Remus informed them, flicking on his indicator.   
“Great,” Virgil said. “I’ll hang up now and kiss your brains out in a minute.”   
“Aw yis!” Remus fistpumped triumphantly.   
“Lucky,” pouted Dante.   
“I promise to kiss your brains out when I get back too,” Virgil smiled, before he blew them both a kiss and hung up.   
There was a moment of silence where Remus could imagine Dante’s eyes on him so viscerally he could almost feel it, and he shivered in his seat as he cruised down the road.   
“Dee?”   
“Yeah, Rem?”   
“Thanks,” Remus murmured. “For staying up. For everything.”   
“I just want to make sure you’re safe,” Dante replied softly. “I love you, Remus. Remember, we stick together, okay? I’m proud of you, I love you, and I support you.”   
Remus smiled, and rubbed a stray few tears away as he pulled up outside Virgil’s aunt’s house. Then, he reached out and turned his video back on, smiling softly at his soulmate.   
“Thanks, Dante,” he huffed. “I… love you too. Get some sleep, babe. I’ll talk to you in the morning, probably.”   
“You too,” Dante said with a smile. “You hang up. But I want to see Virgil on your end before you do.”   
Remus’ car door opened, and Virgil was there, already leaning down to take Remus’ head in his hands and kissing him, Remus melting into him as Virgil made him fall apart in that wonderful way Virgil knew how to do.   
Dante laughed at the two of them, pulling a face as Virgil let Remus go, and he slumped back into his seat with a dazed grin.   
“Wow,” Remus giggled.   
“Come on,” Virgil rolled his eyes and tugged at Remus’ arm. “Come inside, you dingus.”   
“I’ll see you later,” Dante said, fingers brushing the screen.   
Remus returned the gesture with a soft smile.   
“Sleep well,” he cooed in return. “Seeya, Dee.”   
“Remus, Virgil,” Dante nodded to them, before he hung up, and Remus’ phone went quiet for the first time in a few hours.   
“Come on,” Virgil repeated softly, pressing a kiss into Remus’ hair. “Let’s go inside.”   
“Okay,” Remus murmured, unbuckling his seatbelt and letting Virgil help him from the car.


	5. Chapter 5

Hyewon’s house was small, but cosy. She apologised repeatedly for the fact that she only had one guest room, and that Virgil was in it, but Remus reassured her repeatedly that he didn’t mind at all. And, as a massive positive, Remus ended up on a very comfortable sofa (one more comfortable than his own bed, if he was honest) with two very large,  _ very friendly, _ dogs on top of him. Though Virgil and his aunt were trying to pull them off, Remus was giggling away and petting them as  _ much as he could _ and oh my gosh, these dogs were perfect, no of course they could stay, he didn’t mind at all, thank you.   
So for the rest of the evening, Virgil pulled up an armchair next to Remus, who was lying across the sofa with the dogs, Sammy and Hae, draped overtop of him like very warm, furry, extremely weighted blankets, until Remus fell asleep like that, much to Virgil’s amusement.   
He couldn’t blame him, though. He’d had a rough day, and a very late night.

Remus woke to warm dogbreath and a cold, damp nose in his face. He blearily turned his head to avoid the sensation when he realised that there was in fact a dog, nay,  _ two _ dogs, still on him.   
“Oh,” he whispered in awe, already petting the dog who’d stuck her nose in his face, Hae, if he recalled correctly, who looked up at him and whined appreciatively, “hello, gorgeous.”   
He heard footsteps, and looked up to see Virgil, freshly showered and dressed, a soft smile on his face.   
“Hey,” he said, brushing Remus’ hair out of his face.   
Remus caught Virgil’s hand and pressed a kiss into his knuckles.   
“Hey,” he whispered back, and colour rose on his cheeks.   
He wasn’t sure why he was flushing.   
Love? Embarrassment? Shame?   
All of the above?   
Probably.   
He squirmed under the weight of two large dogs, who got the picture and mercifully scrambled off the couch to let him up.   
Remus stood, shakily. He felt faint – not necessarily unwell, but queasy with the realisation of what he’d done.   
Virgil was there in an instant, grabbing his hands and giving him something solid to latch onto as his mind started to wander all the way home, and to the trouble that awaited him there.   
“Hey,” Virgil repeated, and Remus was grounded by the feeling of soft lips pressed into his jawline, ignoring the prickle of half-grown scruff there. “Here with me, okay?”   
“Here with you,” Remus mumbled back, hands tightening for a moment, squeezing his soulmate as if to reassure himself that Virgil was still there. “Okay. Okay. I’m okay.”   
“You’re okay,” Virgil agreed, and Remus released his grip on Virgil’s hands to slide them up to Virgil’s shoulders in order to pull him in and kiss him properly.   
Virgil hummed a little laugh into the kiss, lazily cracking open his eyes to watch Remus’ face relax.   
Remus sighed in contentment as Virgil pulled away, and Virgil let him lace their fingers together.   
There was a moment of silence before,   
“I’m sorry.”   
“Don’t be,” Virgil replied with a soft shake of his head, leading Remus around the couch, past the dogs, and to the dining table, where they could watch Hyewon bustle around the kitchen. Virgil immediately pressed a kiss into Remus’ hair before going to help. The two of them kept shooing Remus back into his seat until they could put a plate in front of him.

Breakfast was uneventful. The dogs were very good at trying to beg Remus for food, and Remus would’ve caved if Virgil wasn’t keeping an eagle eye on him.   
Remus made a point to clear the table for them, he wasn’t an ungrateful guest, after all.   
Soon, Hyewon left them to it, heading out the door with car keys in hand and the excuse of errands to run on her tongue.   
And finally, Remus was alone with Virgil.

He sat on the floor, cross-legged, and didn’t look up as Virgil stood over him.   
“Hey,” Virgil said softly.   
Remus didn’t reply. He started to pick at the hem of his jeans.   
“Remus,” Virgil frowned, and he sat down next to him, slumping against the sofa as a backrest. “Tell me what’s wrong, babe.”   
Remus leant back as well, staring into space as he sighed, but still didn’t say anything.   
Virgil studied him for a moment, before extending his arm in silent offering.   
Remus slumped over, still staring straight ahead, and practically cuddled into Virgil’s side, slotting in and letting Virgil wrap his arm around his shoulders.   
“It’s gonna be okay, Rem,” Virgil whispered, leaning his head against Remus’ gently. “We’ll make sure of it.”   
“I don’t know what to do,” Remus broke his silence with a hollow husk of his usually boisterous voice. “I should’ve planned for this, and I didn’t. I was so stupidly tunnel-visioned. Art school. Who goes to  _ art school?” _ _   
_ “Artists?” Virgil offered.   
“You know what I mean,” Remus snapped weakly, closing his eyes like even the thought of the outside world pained him.   
“You’re following what you want to do,” Virgil shrugged. “That’s what we’ve been  _ told _ to do. All through school. ‘Study what interests you’. And our parents are still very much of the mindset that you must get a practical degree to get a practical job and live a practical life, and-”   
“Die a practical death,” Remus finished mockingly, turning to bury his head in Virgil’s shoulder.   
“Yeah,” Virgil hummed, wrapping his other arm around Remus too and practically pulling him into his lap. “But I think they haven’t figured out yet that we just…  _ aren’t _ practical people.”   
“So what?” Remus retorted. “That’s not going to change my dad’s mind. That’s not going to redeem me.”   
“It doesn’t need to,” Virgil soothed. “I’m going to Brooks University. So’s Dee. It’s a couple cities over, but still in the state if that keeps your parental units happy. You’ll have control over what you study and they have such a  _ bonkers _ selection that, well, it won’t be art school, but…”   
Remus sighed, and let his eyes drift closed.   
“You could be a fine arts student,” Virgil offered. “I hear they get their own studios. We can look into it, the three of us.”   
“Do they have a drama course?” Remus heard himself ask.   
Virgil froze in confusion.   
“Uh…” He blinked. “Yeah, I think so, actually, why?”   
“Roman,” Remus said. “He wants to do drama. This place might suit him too.”   
“Do you actually  _ want _ to go to college with your brother?” Virgil replied, sounding so tired, like he couldn’t believe he had to ask this question.   
Remus squirmed a little in his arms in discomfort.   
“You’d be surprised,” he mumbled, colour high on his cheeks. “I want him to be happy. And he’s my  _ twin brother. _ We’ve never not gone anywhere together. He deserves to be happy.”   
“So do you,” Virgil countered softly, tilting Remus’ head to kiss him again. “You know that, right? It’s allowed to be about you.”   
Remus barked a bitter little laugh.   
“When Roman wants attention,” he said softly, “he becomes president of like, two clubs. He gets the main role in school plays, he gets all the hot and popular people prom-pose to him. He gets top of the class in two different subjects. He puts himself at the centre again and again, and it  _ works. _ People pay attention to Roman.”   
He sighed again, and the fight went out of him.   
“When I want attention, I scream at people, do a little bit of property damage, and run away from home,” he muttered. “I wonder which one of us is the better twin.”   
“There’s no  _ better _ ,” Virgil corrected. “And even if there was, it would be you. I wouldn’t kiss Roman, even for twenty bucks.”   
Remus laughed at that, and then the next thing he knew, he was clutching at Virgil’s hoodie and trying not to cry.   
“I love you,” he gasped out, so sweet and so desperate it had Virgil pressing kisses across his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, murmuring affirmations in between each press of his lips.   
“Love you too,” Virgil hummed. “Love you so much, Remus.”   
Remus sighed, but it was happy and heavy, and he let himself slump into Virgil’s embrace, where he felt safe and warm.   
“Missed you,” he mumbled. “Glad I came.”   
“I’m sorry as to why,” Virgil replied, ever steady, “But I’m glad you’re here too. Auntie’s been asking about my soulmates, anyway. She’s thrilled to meet you.”   
“Sorry about the circumstances,” Remus said, opening his eyes and trying to look up at Virgil from where his head lay on Virgil’s chest, causing Virgil to laugh and kiss his forehead.   
“I’m glad it wasn’t, like, you killed a man,” he shrugged, resting his chin on top of Remus’ head. “And I’m happy you’re here.”   
Remus laughed a little more at that.   
“So,” he said, eyes twinkling with that life Virgil had been missing so dearly, “what do you do around here for fun?”   
Virgil wiggled his eyebrows conspiratorially, heaving himself and his boyfriend to their feet.   
“I have a couple ideas.”

Virgil treated him to lunch at an adorable café, and then to ice cream, and  _ then _ took him to a park down the road, which had a pond, and trees, and lovely flowerbeds, holding his hand all the while in a surprising yet wonderfully open display of affection. They sat on a park bench by the pond, and Remus watched the ducks go by, tossing them the end of his ice cream cone to watch them squabble over it.   
“This is awfully romantic of you,” he commented, sitting back as one duck beat its wings on the water, trying to go for the morsel as another dived under it.   
“Is it lame to say I’ve wanted to bring you or Dee here since I met you guys?” Virgil mumbled, a blush high on his cheeks and a smile on his face.   
“It’s very cute!” Remus cooed, taking Virgil’s hand. “And only a little bit lame.”   
Virgil laughed at him, kicking him in the shin lightly.   
“This was a place Auntie and Uncle would always bring me when I was a kid, staying with them,” he said, and his voice went hoarse towards the end of the sentence, and Virgil couldn’t look at Remus, instead very doggedly watching the ducks continue to squabble as Remus slowly turned to him.   
He crushed the last of his own cone in his hand and chucked it into the water, sending the ducks scrambling for crumbs.   
“It…”   
Virgil sat back and risked a glance at Remus.   
His face was patient and understanding.   
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I called it lame. It’s beautiful.”   
“It’s okay,” Virgil laughed a little at that. “I know you were joking. And probably right anyway. It just…”   
He wrapped his arms around himself.   
“It means a lot to me to be able to share this,” Remus watched him whisper. “And to have you here.”   
Remus slung his arm along the back of the bench, and Virgil leant in, letting Remus wrap his arm around his shoulders and pull him in close.   
“I get that,” Remus whispered. “I really do. Thank you for sharing this with me. It  _ is _ lovely.”   
Virgil smiled.   
“Uncle was so excited about my soulmarks, when they first appeared,” he murmured softly under the squawks of ducks. “He always wanted to meet my soulmates.”   
Remus was quiet.   
“Sorry,” Virgil said, and he rubbed his wrist across his face so quick Remus almost didn’t notice he was crying.   
“Don’t apologise, love,” Remus immediately said, turning Virgil to face him, “Oh,  _ please _ don’t apologise. It’s never easy.”   
Virgil smiled a wobbly little smile.   
“He’d’ve liked you,” he sighed. “Uncle was an artist. Had the same sense of humour as you, too.”   
Remus smiled, because what else could he do?   
“I hope…” he started, but didn’t finish because he didn’t know what he wanted to say. “Uh, I hope I’m good enough to be like him.”   
Virgil’s brow crinkled at him, and he leant in and rested his head on Remus’ shoulder.   
“You are,” he whispered, so emphatically that Remus teared up. “You really are.”   
They stayed like that for a while, watching the ducks paddle around as the morning slipped into afternoon.


	6. Chapter 6

Remus stayed one more night with Virgil and Hyewon, but on the Sunday morning, Remus was up early, stepping around Virgil’s sleeping form (they’d dragged a mattress into the living room so they could both sleep on the floor side-by-side) and stepping out onto the porch, phone in hand.   
He swallowed down his fear, and pulled up his mother’s phone number.   
He didn’t want to do this.   
He didn’t have a choice.   
He knew she’d be up – it was the fourth Sunday of the month, and she volunteered at their local church on the fourth Sunday of the month. He should catch her over breakfast.   
Remus took a breath, sat down on the swing chair Hyewon had on her patio, and hit dial.   
It rang for a second, maybe two, before-   
“Remus?!”   
Remus closed his eyes.   
“Hi, Mom,” he said weakly. “How’re you?”   
“Worried sick!” she near-shouted, and Remus had to tilt the phone away from his ear. “Where are you? Where have you been? If you think this is funny, I’m not going to be impressed, mister.”   
“I, personally, very much think it’s  _ not _ funny,” Remus retorted. “I wouldn’t’ve run off if it was  _ funny.” _ _   
_ There was a moment of silence.   
“Are you okay? Are you safe? Remus, where are you?”   
“I’m safe,” Remus carefully decided to respond. “I-I’m… staying at a friend’s.”   
“Dante’s across the country,” his mother replied sharply.   
“I have more than one soulmate,” Remus retorted sourly.   
“Oh,” he heard her reply, and she sounded so tired, it sounded like she was rubbing her face out of exasperation. “Of course. Virgil. Where’s he staying currently?”   
“I’m…” Remus sighed. “I’m coming home soon. Don’t come for me. Okay?”   
“I want you home,” she said sharply. “We have to talk.”   
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Remus snapped before he thought about whether he should or not.   
“I do, actually,” his mother said. “I’m your mother.”   
He heard voices in the background, and then sounds of clattering, like the phone was being physically fought over.   
“Put me on speaker, you heathens!” Remus hollered, hoping they’d get the picture.   
He figured they did when three different voices started shouting at him, and he pulled the phone away from his face for a moment to try and make his ears stop ringing.   
When he didn’t respond, the line went quiet as they all hushed each other.   
“Remus,” came the angry-sounding voice of his father. “What the  _ fuck _ do you think you’re doing?”   
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Remus laughed, but it was more frantic than it was amused. “I’m on the run! I’m like the hero of a novel from the 50s.”   
“This isn’t the 50s, and you’re no hero,” his dad snapped, and Remus flinched at that.   
“Thanks,” he said. “You’re giving me  _ so _ much reason to come home.”   
There was a beat of silence.   
“Remus-” his mother started.   
“Claire,” his dad interrupted. “We’re not  _ bargaining _ with him. Remus, you’re coming home right now.”   
“Dad,” Remus chided. “There’s  _ literally _ nothing you can do about it if I hang up this call right now. You’re in no place to tell me anything.”   
“All this over art school?” his father growled, and Remus was glad they couldn’t see how he winced. “This is a bit  _ much _ , don’t you think?”   
“ _ Well, _ I personally thought that  _ shouting at me _ for 2 hours about, allegedly, how  _ stupid _ me and my life decisions were was a  _ bit much _ , but that didn’t stop you, now, did it?” Remus spat, and he was very,  _ very _ glad for the distance. “And I’m making myself want to come home less and less. I can hear you seething.”   
“I-”   
“Rem, this is-”   
“Roman,  _ not now _ .”   
“Let him speak,” Remus snapped. “Let us speak for goddamn  _ once.” _ _   
_ There was another beat of silence, a beat where it sounded like everything was falling apart, before Roman spoke up again, probably prompted on by their mother, and his voice was low and wobbly.   
“Rem, I’m sorry,” he told him, and Remus sat back and listened. “You were right… and I-I… shouldn’t’ve…”   
“I know,” Remus interrupted, because he didn’t really want Roman to get in trouble right now, especially after his own little stunt. “You don’t have to say it.”   
He heard Roman swallow hard.   
“Come home soon?”   
Remus’ heart was in his throat.   
The silence was tense.   
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Sure.”   
He swallowed hard, and his fingertips were soundlessly drumming out a rhythm on his thigh.   
“If it makes you feel better,” he croaked, coughing the creakiness out of his voice and trying to push on, “I’m going to take a daytrip to check out a college I was recommended.”   
There was a moment of silence.   
“A college?” his father echoed, and Remus hated the satisfaction in his voice.   
“I thought I’d check it out,” Remus repeated, kicking the decking. “See what they offer. I hear they have a very strong arts program, Ro.”   
“Cool,” Roman said, and the spark of hope in Roman’s voice was far more heartening than anything else that had happened in this conversation.   
“Where is it?” his mother asked.   
“Nice try,” Remus laughed. “I’ll tell you about it when I get home.”   
He heard Roman laugh, his parents sigh, and yes, it seemed everything was back to normal.   
“Okay,” his mother said.   
“Claire!”   
“ _ What _ , Daniel?” his mother asked, and Remus could hear how annoyed she sounded. “We’ve reached a good conclusion. How long will it take, dear?”   
Remus smiled to himself, glad to have his mom’s support.   
“I’m aiming to be there and back in three days,” he said. “One day to get there, one day to check it out, and then a day to drive home.”   
“How’re you for gas?”   
“Absolutely fine. Everything’s fine, Mom.”   
“Do you need cash?”   
“I got some.”   
“…Where’d you get it from?” his dad asked suspiciously.   
Remus sighed. “I don’t steal, Dad,” he grumbled. “You ever heard of busking?”   
His dad grunted, before it sounded like he had gotten up from the table and wandered from the room.   
“Glad to see he’s in good spirits as always,” Remus huffed.   
“It’s been…” his mother trailed off, trying to find the right word. “Uh,  _ stressful.  _ Waiting for you. We called the police. Everyone’s been searching for you.”   
Remus stared at the ground.   
“You…” he felt a thrill of something go up his spine. He wasn’t sure if it was flattery, or fear.   
“That’s awful sweet of you,” he whispered. “But you can tell everyone I’m fine.”   
“Remus…”   
“Please?”   
His mother sighed. “Just… come home, Remus. Whatever you’re doing isn’t that important.”   
Remus’ stare hardened into a glare.   
“I  _ am _ going and looking at a college,” he snapped. “I don’t  _ lie _ , Mom. I do stupid shit, but I  _ never _ lie about it.”   
Silence.   
“You better head off now,” he told the silence. “It’s quarter to nine. Don’t you have to be there at nine?”   
“…Alright.”   
He heard his mother sigh, and he was clutching his knee tightly as he tried to remember how to breathe.   
“Stay safe, Remus,” she said. “Drive safely.”   
“Yes, Mom,” Remus replied.   
“Don’t do anything risky,” she continued.   
“Yes, Mom,” Remus replied.   
“I…” she trailed off.   
“Bye, Mom,” Remus said.   
“Bye,” she mumbled back, and he heard a half-cut off goodbye from Roman as she hung up.

Remus let his phone fall to the seat beside him with a loud groan, rubbing his forehead and trying to gather himself. Well, it certainly could’ve gone worse.   
There was a soft clearing of a throat, and Remus jolted around to see that Virgil was standing in the doorway.   
“Hey,” Remus tried to smile, and was shocked by how his own voice cracked and wavered. Remus reached up to touch his fingers to his face and was surprised to find them wet.   
“Hey,” Virgil sighed, sliding in next to him on the swing seat and wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist. “You okay?”   
“Just… talked to my family,” Remus said, as chipper as he could force himself to be, and Virgil hummed in sympathy.   
“Everything okay?”   
“Better than I expected,” he shrugged, sliding an arm across Virgil’s back and pulling him in close. “Got yelled at. Mom kinda stood up for me. Dad’s mad, but that’s his move. Roman sounded… sad.”   
Remus slumped back.   
“I…” he swallowed hard. “I hope I haven’t broken us.”   
“What?”   
“Like… as a unit,” Remus said, gesturing in the air with a hand. “As a-a family.”   
“It shouldn’t,” Virgil rebutted.   
“It might,” Remus shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t…”   
He withdrew his arms, drawing in tight on himself and trying not to freak out.   
“Your family are stubborn,” Virgil said, “and it’ll take more than this to break y’all.”   
Remus laughed.   
“I’ll take it,” he said.   
“So… you’re leaving?” Virgil asked quietly, and there was something sad in his eyes that made Remus pause.   
“I was gonna, yeah,” Remus said, and he slipped his hand up to cup Virgil’s jaw, studying his glittering dark eyes. “I-is that okay?”   
“Can’t you stay?”   
Remus’ shoulders sagged.   
“I have three days, and one last thing to do,” he said. “I need all the time I can get.”   
“Three days including today?”   
“No. Three days starting tomorrow.”   
Virgil suddenly closed the gap and kissed him, in that deep and mind-blanking way only Virgil had properly mastered. Remus melted into him without even realising, only seeing how close they’d gotten as he dopily opened his eyes, seeing Virgil smirk down at him.   
“At least stay for lunch,” Virgil pouted, voice low and husky and Remus tried to swallow his squeak. “And I’m sure we could… find something to do until then. Hyewon’s out ‘til one.”   
Remus tried to have some self control. Really, he did.   
Then he sighed, and pulled Virgil in again by the shirt, groaning into the kiss and then dragging him to his feet.   
“Only because you’re cute,” he fake-grumbled. “And I’ll miss you otherwise.”   
Virgil laughed, and lead him inside quickly, already tugging Remus’ shirt to the side to nibble and the juncture of his neck.   
“We haven’t got all day,” Remus protested, putting a hand on Virgil’s head to try and push him away, but lost the will to partway through, instead just tightening his fingers in Virgil’s hair instead.


	7. Chapter 7

Virgil and Hyewon waved Remus off as Remus pulled out of the drive, waving back enthusiastically before he turned the corner and paused at the lights, fumbling to put on some music and double check his directions. He had a long way to go, and he wasn’t quite sure if he was looking forward to it yet.   
But with a smile and a shrug, he was off.

The drive was pleasant enough. The roads weren’t too crowded. In fact, it was one of the easiest and nicest drives Remus had probably ever gone on, and yet…   
As he found himself passing the sign denoting the city’s limits, Remus heaved a sigh.   
He did just want to go home, honestly. Or go back to Virgil. Or hell, he could keep driving and find Dante. He didn’t want to stay here.   
He found himself rubbing a finger across the belly of his arm as he waited at the traffic lights, running the calloused pad of his fingertip over the words etched there; the yellow, the purple, and the yet-to-colour.   
Remus was frowning down at it, huffing a sigh at the words there, before the honking of horns jolted him back into reality and he was throwing his car into gear and off before he could ponder further, throwing up a hand of apology as he went.

It was late when he actually got into the right part of town, and he could see the silhouette of the college buildings, imposing even from where he was a few streets over. Remus could feel his anxiety ramping up even at the thought, which he did his best to shake off with a laugh, and he set his sights on finding a motel or something for the night.   
It was cheap. It wasn’t particularly nice, but it seemed secure and surprisingly clean, and Remus was shucking his bags in the tiny provided wardrobe without too much of a thought, considering ordering pizza or some nonsense to avoid having to go out again. He felt exhausted. Long drives were fine, but it was the concentration for hours on end that got to you. He rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache building, and decided to walk somewhere for food. If the college was close by, there  _ had _ to be student-friendly establishments in the area.   
He locked up, double-checked the door, double-checked his car, double-checked he had his phone-wallet-keys, before ambling off down the street, taking in the sights even as the sun was setting and his stomach was growling.   
He ended up finding something cheap, hot, and greasy. Basically nondescript. Almost bland. But it was obvious student food, and he was going to take as much advantage of that as he could. And then, it was a short walk back to his motel room, to lock his door and collapse onto his bed, fully clothed, barely kicking his shoes off in time for his eyes to droop closed and for Remus to completely and fully zonk out.

Remus woke up slowly, blearily feeling for the steady warmth of Virgil beside him and making a displeased sound as he searched for the body that should have been there. It wasn’t until he cracked his eyes open to a cheaply-decorated, unfamiliar room that he remembered where he was and what he was doing, and a spike of loneliness so intense it made him curl in on himself lanced through his chest. It had been a long time since he’d been completely alone like this. In fact, Remus wasn’t sure if he’d ever been completely, truly alone. Usually he had his brother, or at least one soulmate. But now? Remus was in a big city he didn’t know,  _ completely alone… _ and it unsettled him.   
_ Well, _ he told himself briskly, making himself sit up in bed and stretch widely,  _ we came here to do something. So let’s do it. And go the  _ fuck _ home. _

It didn’t take long to find the college. It seemed to be a city built around the university, its campus mostly central and the housing close by. Remus found himself cruising around, blinking at the shiny new buildings – freshly renovated, if the crane he could see them dismantling across the way told him anything. He managed to find the reception eventually, and after about an hour of polite yet grilling questions, he was leaving with a brain buzzing with facts, figures and ideas, and two armfuls of information packets. At least the lady behind the counter and the two other people she’d called over to help him were patient with him, he thanked the clouds silently as he traipsed back to his car. She almost seemed eager to help him, and even more so when he mentioned his brother.   
_ Well _ , he thought as he placed all of this stuff into the boot of his car with surprising care,  _ it’s certainly a start. _ _   
_ He was still staring off into the middle distance as he closed the trunk, and hummed under his breath to himself as he drummed his fingers on the metal.   
From the brief adventure he’d had around campus to find the damn reception and the discussion he’d had with the people there, it actually… seemed like a really nice place to be. It was a friendly-feeling place. Lots of trees and grass and flowerbeds.   
It felt homely.   
Remus found that oddly appealing. He filed that away for a discussion point later.   
He could, just maybe, see himself here.   
It was no art school, but 4 th year fine arts student who’d been working in reception at the time had avidly explained the process to him, and if Remus dared to kid himself any longer, he’d almost say he was  _ excited _ .   
This place… sounded  _ cool. _ _   
_ He clambered into his car and drove back to the motel, wandering into his room and slumping onto the lumpy sofa provided.   
_ Technically, _ he had a day to himself. It was 11am. He had the whole day ahead of him to explore this city that could, possibly, be his home.   
And Remus could only heave a sigh and want to leave.   
He thought for a moment.   
He didn’t have to stay, if he didn’t want to.   
No one was forcing him to do anything.   
He could go home.   
But! Then his mother wouldn’t believe him.   
Yikes, he mused to himself, rubbing his forehead. Well, there had to be  _ something _ to do.

He went for a walk, guitar on his back, and decided to treat himself for a day. An okay lunch, went and saw a movie to kill time, checked out a nearby mall that was far larger than anything back home, and by the afternoon, was simply wandering down a street when he found a cute little café. It reminded him of the one Virgil took him to a couple days ago, and the thought of that made him smile.   
He also noticed with interest that there seemed to be a little stage built in front of the shop, with a nailed down stool. It seemed to be perfect for busking.   
Remus shifted his guitar on his back, and headed inside.

He really didn’t expect this many people to be in a café this late, or even for a café to be  _ open _ this late, but he assumed that this city must have a far more vibrant nightlife than anywhere else he’d been yet. There was a steady stream of customers at the counter, and the shop itself (which felt very much like a mix of a coffee shop and a library, with all the bookshelves around) was comfortably full. Even standing in the entranceway for a couple heartbeats lifted the tension from Remus’ shoulders immediately, and he found himself walking in, taking in the cosy sight as he went.   
“I  _ need _ to bring Dee and Virge here,” he mumbled to himself, trying to make note as he wandered up to the counter.   
“Heya!” came a frazzled yet chipper voice, and Remus’ attention was drawn to the person there. The first thing he noticed were the three pins on this person’s tan cardigan which read, ‘she/her’, ‘they/them’, and ‘he/him’. Then a name badge – Emile. They had bright eyes, vibrant and green, and curly red hair that was tied back firmly in a frizzy ponytail.   
“What can I getcha?” she asked with a smile, and Remus glanced up at the chalkboard on the wall behind them immediately. He hadn’t prepared an order,  _ oh no _ .   
“Uh,” he stumbled. “Um, I… didn’t think this far ahead.”   
Emile laughed a little at that, pushing some stray strands of his hair back off her face.   
“That’s okay!” they said. “Take your time, hon. Excuse me if I catch the next person, though.”   
“Oh, of course,” Remus hurriedly stepped to the side, busying himself with inspecting the cabinet and blackboard.   
Emile quickly dealt with three customers, calling requests to the other person with an apron on behind the counter, a very lanky masculine person with short black hair, dark skin, a leather jacket on  _ under _ his apron, and a pair of sunglasses despite the fact he was very clearly inside, who nodded and quickly slid into place in front of the coffee machine.   
Remus was drumming his fingers on his arm anxiously when Emile finally plopped an elbow on top of the counter with a relieved sigh.   
“So, hon,” they said, and Remus snapped back to attention, blinking a smile onto his face easily. “Made up your mind?”   
Remus shifted on his feet, hitching his guitar case up higher on his shoulder.   
He didn’t miss how Emile’s eyes lit up at the realisation of what was on his back.   
“You play?”   
“Yeah,” Remus smiled, pleased for a diversion. “U-um, I kinda wanted to ask about your set-up outside?”   
“Oh!” Emile said brightly, swiping her hair out of their face again. “That was my husband’s idea. We know what it’s like for you students. Yeah, it’s a space to busk, if you want. We have a schedule you can ask to be on.”   
“Oh!” Remus nodded, impressed. “Is… is it free right now?”   
Emile tilted her head back, thinking.   
“We have a regular guy who comes at five,” they recalled. “Which would give you… forty minutes, if you want?”   
“Easy,” Remus said. “That’d be awesome. You don’t mind?”   
“That’s what it’s there for!” Emile’s husband called over the rumble of the coffee machine. “You new in town? There are a few places around that try to be as student-friendly as possible.”   
“That’s awesome,” Remus said, making a second mental note to  _ definitely _ tell his soulmates about this place.   
“Yep! There’s a quiet space just past the curtain there,” Emile nodded to a heavy curtain just next to the counter, “and we have most textbooks for your standard courses on our shelves.”   
“Oh my god, you guys are a student’s guardian angels,” Remus said, in awe.   
“That’s the plan, gurl!” the tall man said proudly. From here, Remus could make out from his name badge that his name was Remy.   
“So… I can just…?” Remus glanced towards the busking station through the window.   
“Yep!” Emile confirmed. “Just set up, and if you want to order a drink or anything, I’ll bring it out to ya.”   
“Oh,” Remus said softly. “Uh, I might get a hot chocolate, then. Medium.”

He flipped open his guitar case and left it sitting open, the flap resting against his leg as he slung the strap over his shoulders and settled onto the stool. New city, new crowd. He could use some of his old favourites again.   
What he really did not expect was to actually  _ draw _ a crowd. It was a warm enough an evening that Emile, after a couple minutes of Remus playing, left the door open, and some of the café patrons moved to the outside tables to listen. People actually stopped on the street to stand and clap along. Some shouted requests. Many were generous enough to drop a few coins in. Normally, people were only this generous around Christmas, back home.   
Remus could get used to this.   
He checked his watch, and seeing as he only had five minutes left, now, he shrugged, and scanned his memory banks for an appropriate finishing number.   
“Thank y’all for coming out tonight,” he called to the crowd. “I’m just about to wrap up, but do stick around! I hear there’s someone playing after me, and everyone likes an audience.”   
He picked out a few notes of the chord he was preparing.   
“Anyway,” he said. “Here’s Wonderwall.”   
There were groans as he started to loudly strum, beaming from ear to ear at the mixed reactions.   
“Join in if you know the words!” he hollered. “Today is gonna be the day where they’re gonna throw it back to yo-oou.”

They were  _ clapping and singing along _ by the end of it. Remus had never had such an engaged crowd before! Was there some holiday he’d missed? Was there some event on no one had told him about? He forced himself back into the moment as he ended with a flourish, rising to his feet with a dramatic bow as people applauded him.   
“Thank you!” he crowed, kissing his fist before raising it to the sky. “I like you guys! Maybe I’ll even come back.”   
There were a couple approving hoots at that, and Remus laughed.   
There was a guy standing next to the platform a guitar case over his shoulder, eyeing him distastefully through greasy black bangs, and impatiently checking his watch pointedly.   
“Hey!” Remus said, keeping chipper even though he really didn’t like the stink eye this guy was giving him. “Sorry, I’m packing now.”   
“You better,” the guy snarked, and Remus went on to make the firm decision to not-like this guy almost immediately.   
“Wow,” he said, hand on his hip. He had been about to bend down and put his guitar in his case, but now he was dragging out the minutes out of spite because he really didn’t like the cut of this guy’s jib. “It’s almost like this is a public street, or something.”   
“It’s almost like I booked this space,” the guy snapped back.   
“It’s almost like there’s still two and a half  _ whole minutes _ for me to pack up and you to set up,” Remus mused, tapping his chin pointedly, before deadpanning at this guy. “Get of my dick, buddy.”   
The guy sneered at him, and as Remus knelt to sort out his case, the guy stepped forward and  _ kicked _ his case, sending loose change so kindly donated to him scattering all over the footpath.   
“Hey!” Remus shouted, rising to his feet and not even bothering to tamp down on the anger bubbling in the base of his throat. “What the fuck, buddy?”   
“I’m not your  _ buddy,” _ the guy snarled back. “Get off my spot.”   
Remus decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. If he started a fight, he could damage the café, and that was the last thing he wanted to do to those lovely people who owned the place.   
“Consider yourself lucky you’re not worth anyone’s time,” he snipped, and he knelt swiftly, and shovelled the cash still in his case into his coat pockets (seeing as they were deep and probably the most secure thing he had on him at the moment), before putting his guitar carefully away. Slinging it on his back, Remus moved to scoop as many coins off the sidewalk as he could, doing his best to ignore the guy’s gloating stare in the back of his scalp.   
A couple people helped him pick some of it up. Unfortunately, the guy had a good kick, and a solid amount ended up down the drain.   
Remus stared at the grill of the drain for a moment, before shaking his head and dismissing the idea of pawing through stormwater to retrieve the money. He just hoped it wasn’t too much he’d lost. He did need to get gas and get home, after all.   
As he stood, the crowd dispersed, either moving on their way or retreating back into the coffee shop, more than a few dirty looks being sent the new busker’s way. Remus scooped up his newly-bought reusable coffee cup which Emile had convinced him to buy from beside the stool and, with a sickeningly sweet smile, dropped a couple coins in the guy’s waiting guitar case, which was, despite the time that had passed, still empty.   
“Good luck, man,” he smiled. “Hope you feel better.”   
And with that, he turned and strolled inside, making a beeline for one of the circular booths at the back of the café.

Remus slumped into the empty seat with a huff, sliding his guitar around the booth and scooting a little further in, before leaning back and resting his head on the wall, staring up at the ceiling blankly.   
_ Yikes, _ he thought to himself.   
Then he dumped the contents of his pockets onto the table and started to count.   
He made thirty bucks.  _ Thirty. _ He wasn’t sure he’d  _ ever _ made thirty bucks in one session of busking alone. And not to mention whatever he’d lost down the drain, too.   
The reminder soured Remus’ expression and he mumbled curses under his breath as he put the cash away in his wallet. What was that guy’s problem? They were both musicians, trying to do their thing! Competitive streaks would be the death of him.   
Remus slumped forward, resting his head on his forearms. He sighed again.   
He was so tired. And now, vaguely pissed off. And kinda hungry. And a bit upset.   
And yeah, he might even say that this ruined his day.   
There was a clearing of a throat, and Remus jolted upright to see a very polite-looking stranger standing at the edge of his table.   
“Hi,” he started. “I saw what Sam did, and I want to say that’s despicable, and if I can buy you something to replace what he made you lose, I’m happy to. Your singing was lovely.”   
“Oh no, you don’t have to-”   
Remus was cut off by the burning glow on his wrist, and he twisted his arm up to see the final line of words inked onto the belly of his forearm glow a vibrant cobalt blue.   
Remus’ head snapped up to stare at the stranger, clutching the side of his neck in shock, and Remus could see the neon green light pouring around his fingers.   
Remus couldn’t stop the broad smile that slowly bloomed across his face as his final soulmate stared down at him in awe.   
“Hey,” Remus said softly, completely unguarded.   
“H-hello,” his soulmate replied, equally as soft. “You  _ do _ exist.”   
Remus blinked.   
“Of course I do!” he exclaimed. “Me and- …Wait. Do you have more than one? Am I allowed to ask that? Because I, uh, have three.”   
“Oh good,” his soulmate said, and Remus scooted a bit further around the booth so his new soulmate could sit too. “So do I.”   
“Oh, they’ll be so excited,” Remus gushed. “I’m Remus.”   
“Logan,” said the stranger, and Remus could only beam, because yes, that was definitely the name that fitted the young man sitting next to him. With his larger frame, a brown leather jacket over a black dress shirt, a blue tie the exact colour of the words on Remus’ wrist tied in an intricate and unusual knot, and his dark blue jeans and sensible brown shoes, there was something no-nonsense yet undeniably cool about him. ...And  _ quite  _ handsome. His long, frizzy black hair was tied back at the base of his neck in a ponytail, and over the tops of Logan’s glasses, he could tell Logan’s honey-coloured eyes were giving him the exact same critical evaluation Remus was doing in his head. Remus flushed, and drummed his fingers on the tabletop.   
Logan hesitated for a moment, before he smiled at Remus. It was like dawn, seeing light spill across the countryside, his smile. It was cool blues of ice thawing and waves crashing on the shore. It was the night sky as the last of twilight trickled away, setting the stars in a velvet blue before it settled into complete darkness.   
That was what  _ Logan _ felt like.   
“Logan,” Remus said, tasting the name on his lips.   
“Remus,” Logan said in turn, turning the word over in his mind. “What an uncommon name.”   
Remus blushed again. He wouldn’t normally be so swoony, damn it, but he was exhausted and had run out of emotions to spare, and he’d just met the person who might be the last piece, another love of his life or something awfully sappy like that, and he just…   
Remus let his head fall to the table again – a little too hard, harder than he’d meant to, and the thump it produced made Logan wince.   
“Are you okay, Remus?” Logan asked, laughing a little, but any amusement was mostly outweighed by concern.   
“I’ve had such a  _ long _ past few days,” Remus mumbled into the table. “I’ve had such a great and shitty time, I’m so tired from it being so up-and-down. And this is the best thing that could’ve happened on this trip, honestly.”   
Logan rubbed his back sympathetically.   
“Dinner’s on me,” he said. “I’ll get Dad to make us something nice.”   
“Dad?” Remus turned his head to he could see Logan, and let Logan see his confusion.   
“Remy,” Logan smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. My parents own this place.”   
“Oh nice,” Remus whistled. “I can’t believe you get to hang out at the best place in town, like, all the time.”   
Logan smiled at that.   
“That’s a lovely compliment.”   
“Well, admittedly, I haven’t been here long, but this is by far the nicest place I’ve found.”   
“How long have you been here?” Logan asked, leaning forward to rest on his elbows conversationally.   
Remus paused to count the days in his head.   
“A day and a half,” he said, and Logan blinked at him.   
“I take it you live out of town.”   
Remus snorted. “Natch,” he said.   
“What?”   
“Naturally.”   
“Right.”   
Remus sat up again, rubbing his face.   
“Let’s say… there was a strange set of circumstances that led to me being not-at-home, where I really  _ should _ be right now, and I’m checking out, uh…” he drummed his fingers on the table as he scrambled for the name. “The college.”   
“Brooks?” Logan perked up.   
“Yeah!” Remus confirmed. “I was, um, planning on going to art school, and…”   
He looked away, because he really didn’t need to unload on this poor guy he just met, soulmate or not.   
“Let’s say my father is insisting I study for a  _ real job _ ,” he snarked lightly, hugging himself and forcing himself to smile at Logan.   
Logan seemed horrified.   
“I can’t imagine what I’d do if I wasn’t allowed to pursue the study I had been aiming for,” Logan said, scratching behind his ear. “So you’re going to Brooks instead? That’s where I’m attending next year.”   
“Well, at this point, Dante and Virgil are,” Remus mused, and blinked, before offering his arm to Logan and tapping the yellow and purple respectively.   
“I see,” Logan said, and it was clear he was restraining himself from reading Remus’ soulmarks, as per common courtesy.   
“You can read ‘em if you want,” Remus smiled with a wink. “I don’t mind. Just for you, gorgeous.”   
Logan flushed at that, but took Remus’ arm by the wrist nonetheless and gently ghosted his eyes over the words.   
“Virgil, was it?” he asked, resting his fingertips over the purple letters.   
“Yep!” Remus smiled fondly. “Caught him off-guard with that one.”   
“I take it he’s particularly vulgar,” Logan smiled, turning his head and offering Remus to read his own soulmarks.   
Even uncoloured, Remus could instantly tell who was who, laughing at the  _ ‘fuck he’s hot’ _ which was clearly going to colour in purple, contrasted by the ever-so-polite  _ ‘the pleasure’s mine’ _ which he knew would colour in yellow.   
“Honestly? Virgil’s not as bad as me,” Remus said, and he had to snatch his hand back because he was about to brush his fingers over the side of Logan’s throat, which was a bit intimate this early on, really. “He just swears when he’s surprised.”   
Logan turned back to read the yellow inked across Remus’ skin and Remus watched as his brow furrowed in confusion.   
“We were eight, if that’s any excuse,” Remus giggled, rereading it fondly.   
“Eight?” Logan echoed.   
“Yeah,” Remus wiggled his eyebrows. “Country-wide record for youngest soulmarks, both appearing and first meeting. Some kid in Fiji’s marks appeared when they were five, the bastard.”   
Logan laughed a little, but he could see in Logan’s eyes his new soulmate was impressed. Something glowed in Remus’ chest – almost like pride.   
“Congratulations,” Logan smiled.   
Remus laughed.   
“Yeah,” he sat back. “I kinda peaked too soon, but at least it’s a cool little fun fact.”   
Logan fixed him with an odd look. An odd look that felt like Logan was looking through him, in a way that made Remus think Logan and Dante would get along so very well.   
“Well,” Remus said brightly, and he offered his hand for Logan to shake. “I hope in the very least we can be good friends.”   
Logan blinked again, and in a heartbeat, there was a wave of emotions in his eyes that nearly bowled Remus over, it seemed the most prevalent emotion Remus could read was  _ relief, _ and Logan gripped his hand firmly.   
“I hope so, too,” he replied quietly, and there was a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips that immediately made Remus promise that himself he was going to try and get out of this nerd as much as possible.   
Logan let Remus’ hand go and stood.   
“I’ll ask the parental units to cook us something,” he said. “You wait here.”


	8. Chapter 8

As soon as Logan’s parents found out the news, Remus was immediately invited around for dinner at their house, and the moment Emile and Remy found out where he was staying, he was immediately invited their spare room as well.   
“This is very kind,” Remus rushed, glancing between the three of them frantically. “But you don’t know if you can trust me! You know nothing about me except I made your son’s neck glow green. A-are you sure?”   
Remy was laughing quietly, but Emile had fixed him with a calculating look, like they were trying to analyse him on the spot.   
“The fact you’re so concerned makes me confident you’re trustworthy, honestly,” Emile said. “You’ve proven yourself to be polite. You’re… rough around the edges, I will admit, but that’s okay.”   
“So was I, when I first met Emile,” Remy hummed, pressing a kiss into the top of Emile’s head.   
“Like you’ve stopped,” Emile laughed at him, and dragged him in for a kiss.   
Logan rubbed his face as Remus laughed a little.   
“I mean, I’ve already got my stuff in my motel room. A-and a car. Like, it’s easier for me to stay where I am. I already paid for the night. Please, I-I don’t want to be a hassle.”   
_ Don’t pressure me, _ Remus was inwardly begging. He was going to crack, and he could not handle any more parental pressure right now.   
Logan silently offered Remus his hand, and Remus stared at it for a beat, before taking it and latching on tight, trying to centre himself, trying to sort out his thoughts.   
“Sorry,” he said, and he was suddenly aware of how quiet the empty shop was now. “I… uh. It’s been a long week. I just want to stay out of people’s hair.”   
Rather than disappointment, he was met with sympathetic looks, and Emile bustled around the counter and wrapped her arms around Remus tightly.   
“You couldn’t be a hassle,” they hummed. “And you  _ are _ welcome to stay. We can sort out reimbursement.”   
“No!” Remus exclaimed. “Oh, I couldn’t.”   
He was making a scene in front of his soulmate and soulmate’s family. He was earning pity points because that was all he could do. Remus could feel himself cracking under the pressure and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat down and not to let any tears spill over. This was pathetic! He really didn’t need to fall apart every seven seconds.   
“I don’t know a lot about relationships,” Logan said softly, and he had slipped an arm through Remus’ to rub small circles into his back, like he could read the distress right off of Remus’ face, “but I understand having dinner with the parents is a milestone of sorts. We don’t need to overachieve right out the gate.”   
Remus laughed a little at that, covering his mouth with a hand and trying not to let this chortle turn into gasps.   
“Can I walk you to your motel?” Logan offered.   
“Or we can drop you off,” Remy offered, taking off his leather jacket. “If you give us… say, ten minutes to pack up shop?”   
“No,” Remus immediately turned down as politely as he could. “It’s fine.”   
“I think Logan walking with you is a lovely idea,” Emile said gently, and it wasn’t pushing, but there was something cautious in Emile’s tone that made Remus’ gaze fall to the floor.   
“Probably,” he mumbled. “Do what you like.”   
Oh, now he was being sulky. His parents hated it when he got like this.   
“I-I mean-”   
“It’s okay,” Logan cut him off, and led him back to the booth they’d been sharing. “What can I carry?”   
“Nothing,” Remus flashed him a smile and slung his guitar over his back. “This is all I was carrying today.”   
Logan evaluated him, and Remus felt vulnerable in a way he wasn’t sure he disliked. He’d known Logan for an hour and a half, and it felt like Logan had always been there.   
“Maybe we can call the others,” Remus offered. “I don’t know if the first-word thing counts over calls or whatever, but they’d love to know.”   
Logan, outwardly, seemed nonplussed, but there was excitement glittering in his eyes.   
“I would not object to that.”   
Oh, he liked Logan. He liked the way he worded things. It made understanding Logan a little bit of a game, and a game Remus was more than keen to master.   
He readjusted his guitar strap and bounced on his feet. He glanced towards Logan’s parents anxiously, but they waved the two of them towards the door.   
“Just text us when and where you want to be picked up,” Remy said to Logan.   
“And take this!” Emile added, hurrying over and pushing an armload of paper bags of the best-looking cabinet food into their arms. “Stay safe, you two.”   
“Yes, Ma,” Logan said, and he let Emile tug him down by the collar to press a kiss into his cheek, and give him a big hug.   
Without even questioning it, Emile turned their affection on Remus, and gave him one of the warmest hugs Remus had ever been privy to, before patting him on the shoulder and following Remy into the kitchen to finish cleaning up.   
Logan began to lead the way to the exit, and Remus followed automatically, mind blanked by the casual affection.   
“Your parents are a force to be reckoned with,” he heard himself saying. “God, I’m jealous.”   
“They certainly make a formidable duo,” Logan agreed with a small smile. “Lead the way, Remus.”


	9. Chapter 9

It was technically supposed to be a short walk. But it got a bit wander-y, because Remus was (in part) struggling to remember where he was going, and Logan kept pointing out little points-of-interest as they went. But after about twenty minutes, Remus was unlocking the door to his room and stepping aside to let Logan enter.   
They emptied their cargo of paper bags onto the table and Remus found himself hesitating. Logan’s eyes were on him, and his skin was crawling, and Remus was painfully aware (more so than when he first met his other soulmates) that this was a stranger.   
A stranger he was destined to be with, but a stranger nonetheless.   
He supposed you didn’t tend to be anxious about meeting people as much when you were a kid, like he was when he met Dante, and when he met Virgil he wasn’t alone (and was a lot more apathetic, honestly). He had a lot riding on this week. He was alone. And he couldn’t help but feel anxious.   
He felt two hands grip his elbows, and a quiet voice inquire something, and Remus blinked a few times, trying to zone back in, into the moment, and it was then he realised he was quietly crying and hunching over, only straightening up with Logan’s careful grip on his arms.   
He felt his knees weaken, and Logan’s grip tightened, and Remus couldn’t help but fall forward into Logan’s arms.    
Logan tensed, before gently slipping his hands around Remus’ back to draw him in closer.   
“I’m sorry,” Remus whispered. “This is the worst week you could’ve met me in. I’m so sorry.”   
“It’s okay,” Logan replied. “I can go home, if you want to be alone. We’ll meet again.”   
“I want to share the news,” Remus mumbled into Logan’s shoulder. “I want you to see the others. Unless you want to meet them in person. I can keep a secret.”   
“It will be hard to hide the fact your soulmark has coloured in,” Logan said softly. “And you speak so fondly of your soulmates.”   
“Our soulmates,” Remus mumbled.   
He could feel the set of Logan’s shoulders relax.   
“Our soulmates,” he whispered back, and it sounded like it was in awe, like he couldn’t believe that was a phrase he could say, and could believe.   
Remus smiled, and pulled away softly, rubbing the heel of his palm under his eyes to dry them.   
“Deep breaths,” Logan advised. “Calm and steady. We should eat something. Pa’s packed us some of their best work.”   
“Yeah,” Remus sighed, rubbing his arms shyly and trying to fight down the smile that wanted to bloom across his face. “You’re probably right.”

They ate, and Logan was right; Emile was a culinary genius. But after not-too-long, Remus was typing a message to the soulmate groupchat.   
_ ‘hey,’ _ he tapped out.  _ ‘u guys free for a call? got some big big big news, boys.’ _ _   
_ Immediately, his phone started to buzz with a call, and Remus picked up to the sight of Dante’s face, pinched with concern.   
“Everything okay, Rem?” Dante asked, and Remus smiled, relaxing immediately at the sight of his oldest friend.   
“More than okay,” he replied. “Or, at least, I am right now. Can we wait for Virgil? I got some big big news.”   
“You make me both curious and anxious with your statement,” Dante stated, inspecting his nails idly, “but I shall comply.”   
Remus laughed, and Logan softly snorted in the background. That figuratively perked Dante’s ears up.   
“Are you alone?” he asked.   
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Remus laughed, propping his phone up on a stack of magazines and resting his elbows on the table, winking at Dante.   
A glimmer of curiosity glinted in Dante’s mismatched eyes.   
Half a moment later, Virgil connected, a similar air of concern on his face.   
“What’s the news, Remus?” he asked, smiling as bravely as he dared.   
“Don’t freak out!” Remus rushed, smiling broadly.  _ God, it was good to hear their voices again. _ “It’s good news!”   
“Okay,” Virgil said cautiously, settling cross-legged onto his bed. “Hit me.”   
“Do spill,” Dante said as he adjusted his laptop screen to a better angle. “I’m positively  _ dying _ here.”   
Remus opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. How was he going to do this? He should’ve thought ahead. He didn’t have a plan.   
Dante could read the panic right off his face.   
“One step at a time, Rem,” he said softly. “What’s the easiest thing to start with?”   
Remus tilted his head, before shrugging and raising his arm to the camera, clearly displaying the new blue colouring inked across his arm.   
“Oh…” Dante breathed, eyed shining.   
“You didn’t!” Virgil exclaimed, hugging a pillow tightly to his chest. “Remus!”   
Remus beamed, and he was beginning to feel giddy.   
Dante had his hands over his mouth, but even with that, Remus could see his smile.   
“Guys?” Remus finally said, voice cracking, extending an arm to Logan and gesturing for him to get in frame, “meet Logan.”

Logan slid over to sit next to Remus, and Remus tilted his phone better to capture the two of them, smiling as Logan gave a little wave.   
“Salutations,” Logan offered.   
Dante scrabbled for his wrist as Virgil clutched his collarbone.   
“Fuck, he’s hot!” Virgil cried, falling back on the bed dramatically, and Logan’s hand drifted to the now purple glow on the side of his neck.   
“Fuck!” Virgil cried again. “I’ve done it again! I’m so sorry about the swear word permanently tattooed onto your skin, my dude.”   
Logan chuckled, a wonderfully warm sound that melted away the rest of Remus’ concerns.   
“It’s of no concern to me,” he rumbled. “Don’t worry about it. Virgil, I believe?”   
“Yep!” Virgil squeaked, and he was blushing hard. “That’s me!”   
“And Dante, I understand?” Logan nodded to the other side of the screen, raising an eyebrow, and getting the same expression back. “It’s nice to meet you.”   
“The pleasure’s mine,” Dante purred, and Logan’s last soulmark coloured in that warm golden-yellow Remus had always come to associate with his boyfriend.   
“Welcome to the pack,” Remus cheered, throwing an arm around Logan’s shoulders and squeezing gently, a friendly side-hug. “We stick together, we look out for each other!”   
Logan regarded him silently, but a smile hinted about his lips.   
“That we do,” Dante agreed, and his eyes were still glistening with something unsaid. “If I may steer the conversation onwards, how are you doing, Remus?”   
“I think I’ll go to Brooks with y’all,” Remus said, picking at the table. “Well, that is, if you don’t mind.”   
Dante shook his head lovingly.   
“Mind or not,” he said, “It’s  _ your _ education. But of course I don’t mind! Virgil, do you mind?”   
“Hell no, I don’t mind,” Virgil exclaimed. “Dude, the three of us flatting will be a piece of cake!”   
He blinked.   
“The …four? Of us?” he tentatively corrected himself. “Like, Dante and I had decided we’d flat together rather than go into halls, and with Remus that’d be easier again, and I of course don’t know your plans, but, uh, I’m sure-”   
“I have not yet planned that far ahead,” Logan cut in smoothly, and Virgil seemed glad for the interruption. “I’ll have to consider it, but it sounds like a lovely idea.”   
“Awesome,” Remus smiled. “Y’know? I don’t think I’ve been so excited about the prospect of education ever in my life.”   
That got a laugh out of his soulmates, and Remus hugged himself tightly, eyes welling with tears, and he gasped out a breath that had everyone watching him with concern.   
“It’s working out,” he giggled in explanation, shivering from head to toe. “...I didn’t think it would.”   
Dante and Virgil looked like they wanted to jump through the screen and hug him tightly.   
Logan did them the honours.

Remus was at awe at how soft this embrace was. It was almost like it was awkward or careful, like Logan didn’t want to hug too hard, or know  _ how _ to hug. But it was enough, and had Remus leaning into Logan’s steady warmth with a wistful, tiny smile.   
“Thank you,” he mumbled. “You’re a nice hugger.”   
Logan blinked at him, and Remus felt him relax, before the embrace tightened comfortably.   
Dante smiled softly, his fingers gently brushing across the screen, before there were voices in the background. Dante’s head snapped around, leaning back to listen, before turning back apologetically.   
“I have to go,” he said. “My grandparents were visiting, and I need to see them off.”   
“Oh boy,” Remus snorted. “Good luck.”   
“Tch,” Dante bitterly chuckled. “Thanks. Love you.”   
“Love you,” Remus replied.   
“Love you,” Virgil chimed in.   
“Uh,” Logan stumbled.   
Dante smiled. “Nice to meet you,” he said to Logan softly. “Don’t worry about that nonsense now. Have a lovely night.”   
And then he hung up, leaving three of them to sit and look at each other.   
Virgil glanced over the top of his screen, towards his bedroom door.   
“I should go before Auntie tells me off for being up so late,” he said, and Remus nodded.   
“Tell Hyewon I said hi?”   
“Of course,” Virgil agreed, finger hovering over the end call button, before winking at Logan. “Dude, it’s so cool to meet you. Uh, sorry if we’re going too fast.”   
“Do not apologise,” Logan said softly, adjusting his glasses and not looking up. “It’s understandable. There is a pre-existing framework, and I will probably have to slot into it.”   
“‘Probably?’” Virgil echoed dubiously. “You’re in it for good, Logan, however you want to slot in. It’s just been… literally twenty minutes. Give it time.”   
He glanced at his door again.   
“Yeah, I gotta go,” he apologised. “Sleep good, you two.”   
“And you, Virge,” Remus said.   
“Drive safe tomorrow, Re,” Virgil advised him. “Message me when you get home, yeah? I wanna make sure you… do.”   
“Of course,” Remus replied softly, choking up slightly. “Get some sleep, babe.”   
Virgil hung up with only a lingering look at the two of them, a smile touching his lips, before the screen shifted back to the text chat, and Remus locked his phone screen and sat back, letting Logan absorb all this new information in silence.

Logan was silent for a few minutes, obviously piecing things together in his head with a look on his face that made Remus really not want to interrupt him. So, instead, he quietly went about making tea (a habit more of Dante’s – Remus wasn’t really that fussed with the stuff – but it was soothing to drink when Remus missed him, which he did most terribly), quietly putting one of the cheap motel mugs down in front of Logan, before sliding into the seat beside him, and waiting.   
Taking quiet draws from his mug, Remus reached into his bag and withdrew his sketchbook, and started idly sketching as he waited for Logan to finish thinking his thoughts. He knew it be like that, sometimes.   
Logan eventually blinked back to him, acknowledging the cup of tea with a soft and surprised smile, before taking a sip and putting his elbows on the table with a sigh.   
“I’m sorry,” he said.   
“Don’t be,” Remus shrugged, setting his pencil down, and resting his arm across his sketchbook in a way that hid what he was drawing.   
“I ignored you, for…” Logan checked his watch, “two minutes and thirty three seconds. It’s not polite.”   
“You just got a  _ whole bunch _ of new stuff dumped on you,” Remus countered. “I’d’ve sat here for twenty minutes if that’s what you needed.”   
Softness touched Logan’s face.   
“You are a most curious person,” he said without thinking, and at the way Remus tried to keep from reacting at that the wrong way, Logan seemed to regret saying it.   
“I mean,” he fumbled, “you’re the most patient  _ anyone’s _ been with me my whole life, discounting only my own parents, and maybe sometimes more so than them, too.”   
Remus looked down at his hands.   
“I know how shit it is to be…” he tilted his head back, searching for the right word. “Ignored? Discredited? Pushed aside? Whatever. You know what I mean? It sucks and I don’t want to do that to you.”   
Logan regarded him with a fascinated look.   
“I get the impression you couldn’t do that if you tried,” he stated.

Logan let him ruminate on those words as he took another sip of tea. Remus stared down at his hands, and gripped them tightly together at the slightest hint of them shaking.   
“I’m sorry if I upset you,” Logan said softly, and Remus quickly tried to wipe the small grimace off his face. “I… am not good at filtering my thoughts.”   
“Neither am I,” Remus said. “But yours are, at least, factual. Mine are just…”   
He shuddered.   
Logan waited patiently with a concerned knit of his brow.   
“Intrusive,” Remus finally offered quietly.   
“Ah,” Logan hummed. “I see.”   
Remus braved a smile, and looked up, and was delighted to see the tender look on Logan’s face, all for  _ him _ .   
“There’s no rush,” Logan said softly. “Nothing is forced. Nothing is obligatory. We are just… two people, sitting, drinking tea.”   
Remus raised his cup to his lips.   
“Two new friends?” he offered.   
Logan’s face softened.   
“I think that would be applicable,” he nodded.   
Remus let that wonderful warm glow in his chest grow, and his offered his mug.   
“To opportunities, and all that shit,” he proclaimed. “And relationships and stuff.”   
“To a new year,” Logan agreed, clinking his mug.   
“Cheers,” Remus finished, and they settled back to finish their tea.


	10. Chapter 10

He saw Logan off at the door, his parents swift in picking him up, and Remus closed the door musing about what his life might be supposed to  _ be _ with Logan now in it.   
He was still musing as he flopped into bed, still half-clothed, and passed out almost immediately.

It was strangely early in the morning, around seven am, when Remus’ body clock kicked him out of bed. He methodically went through his morning routine, before packing his bag, double-checking he’d packed his bag, and going and putting his stuff in the car.   
He did one last observational sweep of his motel room before turning in his roomkey at the reception and setting off for the nearest gas station. He had a long trip ahead of him, and a quarter of a tank was  _ not _ going to get him far.

It was completely unremarkable, and Remus was on the road home without much of a second thought.   
Home.   
He both was, and was not, looking forward to this.   
As he pulled over in some small town for a quick breakfast-lunch-thing, he realised sharply he should message Logan, as he wasn’t actually sure if he  _ told _ Logan he was leaving today.   
_ ‘hey logan,’ _ he tapped out over a cup of cheap coffee and an average pastry or two he’d bought a few moments ago.  _ ‘sorry i forgot to say yesterday, im heading home today so uh thank you for chilling with me last night. it was real nice to meet you.’ _ _   
_ After less than a minute, the buzz of his phone alerted him to a response.   
_ ‘It was lovely meeting you too, and a pleasant ‘hang out,’ if that is how we are calling it. Lol. Travel safe, I’ll see you next year. – Logan.’ _ _   
_ Remus tittered to himself, before a thought struck him.   
_ ‘hey do you wanna be on our group chat?’ _ _   
_ He blinked, and rushed out a clarification.   
_ ‘like dee and v and my one. the soulmate group chat.’ _ _   
_ There was a beat of nothing.   
Then, _ ‘That would be… pleasant. If you all don’t mind.’ _ _   
_ Remus smiled.   
_ ‘no problem. anything for you, lo.’ _ _   
_ _ ‘oh, may i call you lo? sorry shouldve asked.’ _ _   
_ _ ‘At this stage, Logan might be more preferable, but if you so wish, you may.’ _ _   
_ _ ‘i'll respect your boundaries fam. it's YOUR name, afterall.’ _ _   
_ He mused into his coffee for a moment, before swiftly adding Logan to the group chat, and then replying to Logan.   
_ ‘im about to get back on the road. have a good day, ok?’ _ _   
_ Remus finished off his brunch and disposed of the rubbish, wandering back to his car as he read Logan’s reply.   
_ ‘Drive safe. And you too, Remus.’ _ _   
_ Remus smiled softly, holding his phone over his heart like it could capture the warmth of Logan, before he clambered back into his car and continued on his way.

Remus wasn’t really focussed on the drive. He counted trucks going by. He took note of cows in the fields as he drove on. He ramped up his music and made it through three of his favourite albums before the soreness in his throat politely requested that he stop trying to belt along.   
It felt like no time at all before he was turning down the street he lived on, pulling up outside the house he lived in, and swallowing down the trepidation that plagued him.   
He sat there, clutching the steering wheel, breathing in and out steadily.   
It would be fine.   
He would be  _ fine. _ _   
_ Remus slowly climbed out of his car, closing his door quietly and fetching his stuff from the boot. He slung his guitar over one shoulder and his bag over the other, loading up his arms with all the booklets and information packs from Brooks, then closed the boot of the car with his elbow.   
The front door opened, and Roman was running down the drive towards him.   
Remus took a step back to ready himself as Roman reached him, throwing his arms around him tightly and pulling him close despite all the things Remus was holding.   
“I’m sorry,” Roman choked out.   
Remus leant his head against Roman’s.   
“I know,” he murmured. “It’s okay. It’s fine. I’m home.”   
He looked up to see his father standing in the doorway, arms folded and a far softer expression on his face than Remus expected to see. Then his mother appeared behind him, pushing past to advance on her sons.   
Remus shivered from head to toe, and ducked his head, trudging towards his mother, trying to bury down the panic that wanted to grip its claws in his chest.   
To his surprise, she just... hugged him.   
“You’re okay,” she murmured, and Remus gasped out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and couldn’t find it in him to reply.

He dumped the college information on the kitchen table, before going and putting his stuff away in his room, returning to find everyone poking at it with various stages of interest.   
“So,” Remus said, clapping his hands. “I don’t want to speak for the both of us, Roman, but this sounds fucking  _ fantastic _ .”   
He gave Roman the rundown, answering his questions and kind-of-answering his parents’ questions because this wasn’t for  _ them _ . This was for him and Roman. And by the end of it, Roman seemed happy too. Almost  _ excited, _ even, if that glint in his eye was anything to go by.   
“So, how do we enrol?” he asked leaning forward, and Remus scrambled from the room to find his laptop, and much teamwork was needed to figure out the ins and outs.   
Here, their father was  _ very _ helpful, even if he was unnecessarily sarcastic.   
“Don’t forget,” their mother suggested, “you guys can apply for scholarships.”   
“No point in  _ me _ doing that, though,” Remus dismissed, clicking through a form.   
“You’d be surprised,” she said. “The least you can do is try. There’s no guarantee for  _ anyone _ applying that they’ll get one.”

This was the most synchronised they’d been in a long time, and it all went smoothly. No raised voices. No insults, no arguments. When they were done, Remus slumped back in his seat and sighed. He was fried. Absolutely mentally fried.   
Roman watched him run his hands through his hair, before he squinted at Remus’ arm, and cried out in disbelief.   
“What?” Remus exclaimed, panicked. “What’s wrong?”   
Roman grabbed his wrist and pulled Remus’ arm over to himself, a massive grin spreading across his face.   
“Remus!” he shouted. “You  _ didn’t _ !”   
“Oh!” Remus smacked his forehead. “I forgot. Uh, yeah. I met my last soulmate when I was checking out the college.”   
His parents stared at him, before his dad shook his head with a laugh.   
“It’s just like you to  _ forget _ to mention your soulmate,” he chuckled. “Who are they? What are they like?”   
“Oh,” Remus said as he tried not to swoon (and majorly failed). “ _ Logan. _ Logan is just  _ wonderful. _ ”   
“Oh my god,” Roman cackled. “You’re so smitten already! What a  _ dork. _ ”   
Remus swatted the back of Roman’s head, but the blush was high on his cheeks.   
“He’s really smart,” he started. “You can tell in the way he constructs his sentences. He’s  _ fascinating. _ And he likes blue, and his parents own a super nice coffee shop near the university that has like, bookshelves full of most textbooks required for college courses? And they’re really kind? It’s so sweet.”   
He idly punch-nudged Roman’s arm.   
“We gotta go,” he said to his brother. “Next year.”   
“That’d be rad,” Roman nodded.   
“What else can you tell us about this ‘Logan’ of yours?” his mother inquired, leaning her chin on her hands and smirking at him across the table.   
Remus scratched the back of his neck.   
“He’s practical,” he said. “No-nonsense. I think you’d like him. Down to earth. But mind you, it’s literally only been like, two days that we’ve known each other. So... There’s that.”   
His mother looked almost wistful for a moment, but smiled warmly at him.   
“He sounds wonderful.”   
Remus put his head in his hands, resting his chin on his fists with a gentle smile.   
“I think he is,” he murmured fondly. “I can’t wait to get to know him.”   
Something crossed his mother’s face, as fleeting as a shadow, before she rose from the table to start dinner with a broader smile in his direction and not another word.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the start of the Friends to Lovers _to Enemies _to Lovers, and the full on argument is next chapter. Just FYI this is where it starts to spiral.__

The first year of college was actually  _ way less stressful _ than Remus ever expected it to be. It passed. It passed so quickly that Remus felt like he blinked and he missed it; plus, he did  _ well. _ Which was certainly unexpected, but not unappreciated.   
Dante was doing law. He would make a terrifyingly good lawyer, in Remus’ opinion. Virgil was studying journalism, and though it stressed him out majorly, he was an excellent writer. Logan was doubling in chemistry and computer studies, and the workload hardly seemed to phase him.   
Remus… was learning lots! He was learning how to paint and sculpt and all sorts of things. He really enjoyed working with clay, but he went into his second year feeling useless when he came home.   
He ended up going part-time this year, to help pay for rent, and just… to feel like he was actually being an asset to the household. The four of them flatted, and they all worked in some capacity, but Remus was feeling more and more hopeless about the state of his future.   
...Not that he’d pass that information on, of course. Fuck no.   
His soulmates were stressed enough as it was.   
So Remus sat at home alone on a Saturday evening, fixated on a drawing commission, tongue poking out of his mouth as he hunched over his tablet. He liked digital art too, even though there wasn’t much room for that in his studies. Maybe he should try and bring it up to his professor.   
He heard the front door open and close, and he dumped his stylus and darted into the hall to greet… Dante! Who looked dead on his feet and was glowering at the floor.   
“Hey, Dee,” Remus said brightly, and liked the way Dante’s eyes lit up at the sound of his voice. “Rough day?”   
“My co-workers are  _ insufferable, _ ” he grumbled, kicking off his shoes by the door and shrugging off his coat. “Are the others home yet?”   
“Nope!” Remus leant on the doorway and smiled. “Just us, currently.”   
“Did you happen to start dinner?” Dante asked hopefully.   
Remus’ face fell. He was supposed to do that, wasn’t he? It was his turn today, because he was home. He’d forgotten. Again.   
“Fuck,” he gasped. “I. Uh, I’ll start now. Shit, I forgot. I h-had a commission I was working on? And the person wants it by the end of the week and it’s a big one, and I-”   
“It’s okay,” Dante said, in a way that almost made Remus think it wasn’t. “I can do it.”   
“No!” Remus said. “Go sit down, babe. I’m so sorry.”   
He immediately turned tail and basically scrambled for the kitchen, still mumbling apologies as he heard Dante lumbering after him on what must be aching feet. 

He was cursing himself out as he went digging for the right pans or whatever as he tried to think of what to make and damn it, he shouldn’t have  _ forgotten _ , who  _ forgets _ to eat? Who does that? Trying to drown out his thoughts over the clanking of pots and pans didn’t work and it felt even more stressful and Dante was there and gently grabbing his wrists and tugging him away.   
Remus bit his lip. Crying now would be so utterly, completely  _ pathetic. _   
“I can do it,” he repeated lamely, like it was any more convincing.   
“ _ We _ can do it,” Dante gently corrected him, and Remus couldn’t meet Dante’s eyes. Maybe he was imagining it, but… it sounded like Dee was purposefully talking down to him. Babying him.    
Remus’ skin crawled, but he let Dante guide him along, let Dante take charge, and Remus drifted in and out of the conversation, only half-noticing when Logan and Virgil strolled in, only half-paying attention to what he and Dante were doing, and he had no idea how long it took. But then he had been sat down at the dining table with a fork pressed into his hand, and he could only push around his food around and fend off questions and disappear into his room at the first chance, trying to not feel like shit and failing miserably.   
He sat back at his desk and looked down at his art, reaching for his stylus and bringing the art program back up and staring at his screen.   
And staring.   
And staring.   
And he closed the art program.    
Pathetic.

Remus abandoned his stylus and scooted his chair back into the middle of his room, tugging at his hair in frustration. He didn’t have  _ time  _ for this! He couldn’t afford (in more of the literal sense than anything else) to fuck this up.    
He forced back a sob and tried not to freak out completely.   
What was that thing Virgil would tell him about? Breathing exercises?    
He tried to steady his breathing and found it wasn’t helping in the slightest.    
God, he didn’t want to be alone right now.   
He thought about going to his soulmates.   
Then he cringed at the thought of it. They were all tired and working and busy. They wouldn’t have the time or energy to deal with him tonight.    
Someone knocked on his door.   
“Remus? May I interrupt?”    
It was Logan.   
Remus swallowed hard, and didn’t respond.   
“...Remus?”   
“Uh,” he said, and it  _ could’ve _ been the start of a convincing lie if his voice did not wobble and crack most magnificently.   
“Remus,” Logan’s voice was far softer now. “May I come in?”   
Remus wrapped his arms around himself tightly.   
“Dante told me you’re busy, but if you’re upset, I want to help.”   
Remus choked back a sob, but said nothing more.   
“Remus,” Logan said, and his tone had gotten harder, sterner, and Remus wrapped his arms around his head and tried to wheeze out steady breaths.   
“Lo,” he whispered, hoarse and barely audible.    
His door opened, and Logan switched the light on, only to grimace at the sight of Remus turning away, softly crying.    
“Remus,” he murmured, and he was crouched in front of him in a heartbeat, offering his hands out towards him.    
Remus stared for a moment, before reaching out and latching onto Logan like a lifeline, gasping high and desperate, and he watched Logan’s face crumple.   
“I-I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Don’t worry about me, Logan.”   
Logan’s brow furrowed.    
“I want to worry about you,” he countered firmly. “You’re crying!”   
Remus pulled back one of his hands and quickly (and roughly) wiped his cheeks dry.    
“I’m fine.”   
The crack in his voice did not support his claim.   
Logan leant up and placed a kiss on Remus’ forehead.    
“Come sit with me,” he offered, helping Remus up and leading him towards the door.   
“No!” Remus cried, and he had pulled his hand back and recoiled before he could think it through.    
Logan stared at him, and if Remus wasn’t mistaken, that emotion in Logan’s eyes was  _ hurt. _   
“I-I mean,” he stammered, and he was rubbing his hands up and down his arms and trying to prevent himself from digging his nails in, “t-that sounds lovely! But I… I really don’t want  _ them _ ... to see me like this.”   
Logan didn’t say anything, merely observing him for a moment. Then he moved to close Remus’ door and flick his lights back off, before quietly leading Remus to his own bed and gesturing for Remus to sit next to him.   
Logan ended up sitting with his back against the wall at the head of the bed, supported by Remus’ pillows, with Remus curled up beside him, head on Logan’s chest.    
Remus closed his eyes as Logan started to smooth his hair back, listening to the rise and fall of Logan’s chest and the beat of his heart, and only now realising cuddled next to Logan’s warmth just how  _ cold _ it was in his room.   
It seemed Logan wanted to say something. Remus tensed, waiting for accusations and chastisations to come.   
Logan’s hand stilled for a moment.   
Remus sucked in a breath.   
“...What is it?” he asked, in a tiny voice.   
Logan’s hand started to move again, petting his hair in a motion that Remus hated to admit was so very calming.   
“Nothing,” Logan replied, voice soft, and Remus tried not to flinch. “Nothing is wrong. You should sleep.”   
“But-” Remus tried.   
“No,” Logan cut him off. “You look exhausted, Remus.”   
“My commission,” Remus said lamely. “I’m running out of time, Logan.”   
Logan chuckled softly at him as Remus failed to bite back a yawn.   
“At least have a nap,” he said. “Two hours. Then you can work more. You won’t get anything done in your state.”   
Remus hummed in thought.    
“Maybe you’re right,” he mumbled, gripping the front of Logan’s shirt tightly and looking up at his soulmate’s face with wide eyes, “But if I do, will you wake me up?”   
He wanted to ask something else, but he knew it’d come off as clingy and pathetic.   
“Of course,” Logan smiled, leaning down and pressing a kiss into Remus’ hair. “Any other requests?”   
He wasn’t going to say it, but it slipped out between his lips before he could stop it.   
“Stay with me?”   
He flinched as soon as he said it.    
“Of course,” Logan replied without missing a beat. “I’m here, hon.”   
Remus flushed at the endearment. They were rare coming from Logan.    
“Just relax,” Logan hushed as Remus squirmed. “Close your eyes and listen to my breathing.”   
Remus did as instructed, letting his breathing fall in sync with the gentle rise and fall of Logan’s chest, and before he knew it, Remus was drifting off into peaceful oblivion.


	12. Chapter 12

Logan was still there, and still asleep under him when Remus woke. In fact, the thing that actually  _ woke _ Remus was the morning sunlight streaming through the crack in his curtains.    
…   
_ Morning sunlight?! _   
Remus bolted upright with a loud curse, jolting a bleary-eyed Logan awake. A blanket - a soft grey one with a yellow trim that he knew to be Dante’s - fell off of Remus’ shoulders as he scrambled out of bed, cursing continuously under his breath as he went fumbling for a phone, a computer, a watch,  _ anything  _ that’d tell him the time.   
He found his phone on his desk, and woke up the screen to see  _ 9:43am _ staring back at him.   
“Fuck!” Remus exclaimed.    
That panic from last night was back at full force to claw at his throat.   
“Remus, what-” Logan mumbled, swinging his legs out of bed, voice thick with sleep and confusion.   
“It’s quarter to ten!” Remus cried, slamming his phone down on the desk and trying to remember how to breathe. “We slept the whole night! I c-can’t-! I don’t have enough time! I h-have to…”   
Remus had to brace himself against the desk. Sure, he felt fairly rested, as recently he’d been trying to focus on work and study instead of sleep and this was a nice change of pace, but he had to finish the lineart  _ and _ colour it before 8pm this evening!    
He…   
He wanted to shout at Logan. He wanted to rage and scream and beg him to explain why he didn’t wake him up like he promised.   
But he shook his head violently, because that wasn’t fair. Logan must’ve just fallen asleep. He couldn’t blame Logan for that! Remus did not want to even begin to  _ think _ about treating his soulmates like that.   
He should’ve known this would happen anyway. Remus should’ve spent his own time better.   
So he quickly went back to Logan, babbling apologises and excuses, grabbed Logan’s wrists with a grip that might’ve been a little too hard and placed a kiss on his forehead, before scrambling around for clean clothes and booking it for the bathroom.    
He needed to get up and operating,  _ stat. _

He ended up making himself a very large, very strong coffee and barring himself in his room, politely requesting he be not disturbed, before sliding his headphones on, finding something to listen to, and getting down to business.   
Around 1pm, his wrist was beginning to hurt a bit, his stomach growled, and his throat was parched, but Remus was  _ not _ about to admit defeat. He would admit, though; he’d made  _ excellent _ progress. The lineart was done, and he’d gotten all the base colours down and was working on tweaking the shadows on the characters. Then he’d have to do the background (which he was extremely worried about,in all honesty), and who  _ knew _ how long that would take.   
He slipped off his headphones, pausing his music, and stood, stretching with a massive yawn. Hoo boy, this was a long haul.   
But he was feeling good! He was going to get this done! And he needed to pee!   
Remus laughed at himself, and leant down to hit save at least five times before he went and left the room. He ducked into the bathroom to sort himself out, before wandering back. He was going to go straight back into his room, but something smelled  _ really good.  _   
His feet were taking him into the kitchen even before he acknowledged how he was hungry, and Virgil stood at the stove, hands on his hips, watching Remus wander in with his nose up and his eyes closed.   
Remus came to a halt and opened his eyes, blinking at Virgil’s expression a couple times before smiling.   
“Hey!” he said.   
“Hello,” Virgil said. “I’ve barely seen you since Friday.”   
Remus felt a stab of guilt.   
“I’ve been busy, I’m sorry.”   
“I heard,” Virgil said, opening his arms and offering a hug. “Don’t worry, Rem.”   
Remus surged forward and accepted the hug eagerly, burying his face in Virgil’s shoulder, and he hummed contentedly.   
“I also noticed you had a coffee this morning,” Virgil sing-songed. “And  _ only _ a coffee this morning.”   
“I was in a hurry,” Remus mumbled into his hoodie.    
“I made you grilled cheese,” Virgil declared, retrieving a plate from where it had been warming in the oven and pressing it into Remus’ hands. “Go sit down and eat before you go back into your room, okay?”   
“Okay,” Remus mumbled.

It was good. Virgil came and joined him and asked him questions about his commission whilst he ate, and it was actually a lovely break from the monotony. At the slightest mention of his hand being sore, Virgil gently took it and started to massage it, working the pressure points and trying to alleviate Remus’ discomfort.    
“So yeah,” Remus finished, pushing his plate away from him. “I’m hoping the background works out cleanly. I  _ think  _ I know what I’m doing, but I don’t do large-scale backgrounds like this often, so I’m a bit nervy about it, honestly.”   
“Remember, you can use reference pictures,” Virgil advised. “Seeing how other artists have done it can be real helpful too.”   
“You’re absolutely right,” Remus nodded, and used Virgil’s grip on his hand to pull his boyfriend in to give him a smooch of thanks. “I should get back to it, though. Where are Logan and Dante?”   
“They’re out grocery shopping,” Virgil informed him, standing at the same time as Remus and finally letting him have his hand back. “They should be back in like, an hour. If you think they’ll forget something you need, text ‘em, okay?”   
“Okay,” Remus said. “Is it okay if I go back to my room? I’ll have headphones on and stuff, but I won’t lock the door so you can come in and shoulder-tap me if you need me.”   
“Sounds good,” Virgil nodded, and plastered a quick kiss on his cheek. “Get to work, Re.”

He was vaguely aware of time passing, more to at the fact that he had to get up and close his curtains and turn his light on, and when Dante and Logan got home they came in and pressed somewhat hesitant kisses into his hair whilst he was working, Remus barely tearing his eyes away otherwise.   
It was 7:36pm when Remus finished, sliding his headphones off and slumping back into his chair with a limp cry of success.   
Someone was passing. They stuck their head in, and Remus spun in his chair to see Virgil looking in at him expectantly.   
“I’m done!” he cheered, throwing his hands in the air.   
“Fuck yeah!” Virgil wooped in response.   
“Want to come have a look at it? I have been staring at it for so long I can’t tell if it looks good anymore.”   
There were more footsteps, and soon Remus’ room was crowded with four bodies as his soulmates gathered around to evaluate his art.   
“Beautiful,” Dante declared after a pause. “You’ve done well.”   
Remus flushed at the praise.   
“I think you’ve captured the light through the trees quite effectively,” Logan commented, hand on Remus’ shoulder as his soulmate leant over him to look closer. “It’s very ‘warm’ to look at.”   
“I like the dynamic pose,” Virgil added. “The way you pulled off the cloth really makes it look like she’s caught mid-spin.”   
Remus was bright red and practically squirming in his seat.   
“Thank you,” he squeaked out. “O-okay, I gotta send it on now. I’ll join y’all in like, five minutes, okay?”   
“All good,” Virgil affirmed, and tilted Remus’ head up for a swift kiss before herding the others out of the room. 

Remus was swift to get it all sent off, and saved everything five times, check the email had sent properly, checked everything he needed to check, before packing up. He re-organised his desk, putting things back into their usual, ‘default’ spaces, before standing and stretching, groaning as things went  _ click _ and  _ clunk _ , shaking out his shoulders and wandering into the living room.   
His soulmates all looked up at him as he entered.   
Remus shot them all fingerguns, smiling as broadly as he could, and Virgil gestured for Remus to join him on the couch. Remus sat, slowly, because it felt like everyone’s eyes were on him, but Virgil cuddled into his side.   
“Remus,” Dante said softly, “can we talk?”   
Remus’ mouth dried out.    
He didn’t like the sound of that.   
“Dante,” Logan argued. “It’s fine.”   
“Is it?” Dante shot back, and Remus curled up a little into Virgil in return, feeling around for something to hold and finding his boyfriend’s hand. He was beginning to feel sick.   
“I’m listening,” he said quietly, so quietly that the sound nearly didn’t make it past his lips. 

Dante faced him, turning in his armchair to see him properly.  
Remus tried not to shrink away.   
This was his family. He didn’t need to be scared.  
Dante took a breath, and Remus immediately noticed Logan was wringing his tie in his hands, and something felt like it lanced through Remus’ chest.   
Had he hurt Logan? And not even noticed?  
“Oh,” Remus breathed in a moment of horrible clairvoyance. “This morning.”  
“Yes,” Dante nodded. “And last night. And, well, if we’re addressing this now, on and off for a few months, as well.”  
Remus blanched and stared at the floor, frowning, trying to cast his mind back. He had sat up straight, dropping Virgil’s hand, and if his chest began to heave, well, that was Remus’ problem.  
“Okay,” Remus whispered.  
He coughed, and tried to clear his throat, before trying again.  
“Tell me straight,” he rasped. “Tell me what I’ve done wrong.”  
Dante steepled his fingers, glancing between Remus and Logan, before sighing deeply.  
“You scared us,” he said plainly. “This morning, in specific. A lot. With all the shouting and the banging. And Logan admitted discomfort to me.”  
Remus dropped his head, and wrapped his arms around himself.  
Virgil tried to hug him. Remus leant away and silently shook his head.  
As Virgil retreated, Dante rubbed his temple.   
“I know you had a deadline,” he said. “But the reaction you had this morning seemed very extreme.”  
“I apologise, Logan,” Remus said in a tiny voice. “I was trying very hard not to be angry at you, because it wasn’t your fault at all. It was mine, because I did not manage my time better. If I hurt you, I’m so sorry.”  
Logan’s tie-wringing slowed down.  
“I accept your apology,” he replied.  
There was a beat of silence, tense and awkward, but Logan smiled at Remus, and Remus almost felt better.  
“If I may continue?” Dante pushed, sounding guilty but not really looking it.  
Remus slumped back into the sofa.  
“Okay,” Remus mumbled. “You… may.”  
Dante was looking at him, looking through him, and it made Remus want to tear his hair out.   
“This sort of behaviour rises almost every time you have to complete a commission,” Dante said. “I know it is stressful. So here’s a thought; between this and your job, is there one that is worth it more to funnel your time into?”  
Remus’ head snapped up, and he could only stare at him, disbelievingly.  
“What?”  
“Your commissions are less able to support us, right?” Dante continued, peering across at him. “So, logically, to save you stress, wouldn’t cutting it out of your schedule save you stress?”  
Remus felt sick.  
“I can’t…” he whispered, beginning to hyperventilate and trying to tone it back down. “I can’t give my art up, Dee.”  
“I’m not asking you to,” Dante said seriously, “but we cannot deny that you do art for your study.”  
“It’s not the same,” Remus said.  
“And you do it in your spare time,” Dante added.  
“Yes, but-”  
“It’s just a thought,” Dante cut him off, raising a hand and closing his eyes, like he was doing Remus the dignity of ceding a point.   
Remus felt like shit.   
He shuffled forward on his seat, preparing to stand.  
“Anything else?” he snapped, and immediately regretted his tone.   
“Nothing from me,” Logan cut in softly, rising to his feet and crossing the room. He gave everyone a quick hug, saying, “I’m going to bed now. Had a long day.”  
Remus’ stomach twisted at that. He felt like he should apologise again.  
“Have a good sleep,” he said instead.   
“You too,” Logan told him, lingering in the doorway for a second, before they heard him lumber off down the corridor.   
Virgil sat up, glancing between Remus and Dante and deciding he didn’t really like the energy here.   
“Are you guys okay?” he asked quietly.  
Remus tried not to look like a wounded animal as he glanced at Dante.  
It didn’t work, obviously. Dante’s face hardened at the sight.  
“Is this some ploy?” he snapped, and Remus recoiled in an instant. “Are you trying to play hard to get or something, Remus? We’re supposed to be in this together.”  
Remus was on the edge of his seat, trying to fight down the hurt in his chest that wanted to shine through on his face, realising Dante would take it the wrong way too.  
“I’m not trying to hurt anyone!” he insisted. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you think this, Dee.”  
Dante scoffed.   
“You don’t?”  
Remus fought to keep his face even.   
“That’s what I said, isn’t it?” he retorted.   
Dante rubbed his temples.   
“I can’t keep babying you, Remus,” he declared. “We’re all expected to pull our weight here if this is going to work! For example, you never cook when we ask.”  
“That’s a lie!” Remus leapt to his feet, indignant. “I do! N-not as often as I know I’m supposed to, but I do!”  
“For the past three weeks, when I’ve come home from work and it’s your turn to cook, you haven’t,” Dante said with a glare, rising to meet him. “Do you know how hard it is to have to cook after a full shift?  
“When I get a reminder, I do,” Remus tried to argue, but his heart was in his stomach because Dante was right. “I-I know I’m not good with time or remembering things, I _know_! But if you give me a chance I-”  
“I have given you a chance,” Dante cut him off, and there was something frighteningly fiery in Dante’s eyes, and Remus let himself fall silent. “I have given you chance after chance, Remus.”  
“...But you didn’t _tell_ me,” Remus tried. “You didn’t tell me those were my ‘chances.’ If I had known it was that bad, that _important,_ I would definitely have made a fix! Or I would’ve tried! But it didn’t seem to have that much impact, so honestly-”  
“Then you need to open your eyes, Remus.”  
“Dante!” Virgil snapped. “He’s been busy too.”  
“Busy _drawing,_ ” Dante sneered.  
“Busy _working!”_ Remus cried. “It’s work! I run a service in return for money! I’m not getting worked up for nothing, Dante, there _is_ actual economic benefit here. I’m not sitting on my ass all day, free-loading. I went part-time studying for this. So we could actually keep affording groceries and shit.”  
“We agreed to focus on our degrees and move on from here.” Dante snapped. “You’re dragging us down.”  
“You wouldn’t wait for me?” Remus recoiled, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat as best he could. “I mean, I can take summer courses and get this done, get back on your schedule if you want me to! And we agreed to ‘move on?’ Did you ask Logan that? This is his hometown! His parents live here! Did _he_ agree to that? I don’t remember agreeing to that.”  
Virgil mumbled in agreement, but was cut off by Dante’s glare.  
“Hey,” Remus snapped, firmly putting himself between Dante and Virgil. “Fine. Yell at me. But you are _not_ coming for the others. This is between us, Dee.”  
Dante’s glare hardened into something sharper.   
“It’s between all of us,” he argued, folding his arms and staring Remus down. “Because it involves all of us. What are you going to do after college, Remus, dear? _Art_? Don’t make me laugh.”  
Remus’ jaw hit the floor.  
“I beg your pardon?” he snapped, but the hurt finally flooded his voice. “I’m not-”  
“You don’t get to play victim here!” Dante cut him off again, and Remus was finally getting the picture.   
The frantic burning in Dante’s eyes, the dark bags under them, the split ends in his hair, the exhaustion how he held himself. Dante was frazzled, stressed, and all Remus was doing was fanning the flames with his... _ineptitude_.   
“We’re going to college to learn something we can use in the real world, Remus. And you’re sitting there with your pottery-”  
“It’s not _pottery_!” Remus interrupted, and his voice wanted to spill over as an offended scream, but then he was proving Dante right about his immaturity, wasn’t he? “You don’t get to ridicule my craft! _You_ were the one person who supported my art when my family wouldn’t!”  
Dante scoffed again.  
“You’re being useless, Remus,” Dante told him, and each word that left Dante’s lips felt like standing in a hailstorm, with countless pellets of ice pinging and stinging off his skin, painful and unrelenting. “You’re _expendable._ You’re doing so _little_ for us as a unit that as it stands, we don’t _need_ you. Whatever the future holds, it doesn’t involve your art. _That,_ I can assure you.”

Remus was staring in shock.    
He opened his mouth, and couldn’t find any words.    
He glanced at Virgil, who was curled up on the couch pointedly staring at the floor, mouthing his breathing exercises to himself.   
He found his eyes wandering back to Dante’s; mismatched and furious; and Remus couldn’t breathe.    
Then, Dante seemed to recoil at whatever look was on Remus’ face.   
It wasn’t until Remus felt something wet drip off his chin and onto his shirt collar did he realise he was crying.   
The silence was tense.   
“...We probably woke Logan up,” Remus whispered, voice thick and wobbly.   
Dante didn’t say a word.   
“You have a nine o’clock class tomorrow,” Remus continued, unable to move, unable to look away. “You should go to bed.”   
Dante went to say something. He was cut off by Virgil leaping to his feet and rushing from the room, not bidding either of them goodnight. And judging by the number of footsteps before a door opened, he’d gone straight to Logan’s room.    
The slam of the door quietened anything they were going to say.   
Remus stared Dante down, no longer angry, no longer upset.    
Just… tired.    
Resigned.    
Dante was right, after all.   
“Go on,” he said. “You look exhausted.”   
Dante went to bite back, but seemed to decide it wasn’t worth it, and brushed past him, an elbow catching Remus in the chest as he went. Remus stumbled, but held back his yelp of pain.   
Dante didn’t look back.   
Remus stared at the wall, before taking in the dark, empty room around him.   
He was alone.   
Remus slowly sank down on the couch, and stared into space for a moment, before fumbling for a pillow to bury his face in as the waterworks opened, trying to stay quiet in the smothering silence of a household on edge as his heart slowly broke.


	13. Chapter 13

The next day was awkward and horrible. Dante usually walked with Logan to their first classes. Logan left fifteen minutes early just to avoid it entirely.    
Virgil had an early-ish class today, so he came out Logan’s room in time to see Dante slumped at the breakfast bar, drumming his fingers on the counter and trying to make his way through a bowl of cereal.    
Dante looked up at him, and Virgil stared back, eyes wide.   
“Hi,” Dante offered, quiet and sad.    
Virgil looked at him for a moment, before any fear evaporated, and he seemed to recognise the tiredness and regret that had settled across his soulmate’s shoulders.   
“Hey,” he mumbled back, and he joined him for breakfast, before heading to the bathroom to start his shower.   
He didn’t see Remus that morning. Remus was still asleep. He didn’t disturb him.   
Dante ended up walking to class alone. 

He texted Remus an apology - a pathetic way of going about it, he knew - but it was a precursor to the speech he’d been preparing all day. He was going to get some of Remus’ favourite biscuits and some flowers and beg Remus’ forgiveness… not, of course, like he deserved it.   
He’d seen the hurt on Remus’ face.   
He knew what he said had crossed the line. He _knew._ But he guessed his frustration boiled over into personal attacks, and he _also_ _knew_ Remus didn’t handle that sort of thing well.   
Dante could only focus on apologising. He didn’t want to think about the consequences of his words. He could fix it.  
He had to fix it.  
He and Logan ended up having a tense and short lunch together, but when the clock showed them they had fifteen minutes left, Dante finally spilled his guts for Logan.  
“An explanation for my behaviour,” he had said. “But not an excuse.”  
Logan listened to him. Logan _forgave_ him. Of course Logan did. Logan was amazing and stunning in how he was patient and understanding. He didn’t deserve someone like Logan.

All that was left was to catch Remus and apologise. Dante kept reflecting on his own words and wincing. Remus had promised him, now twelve years ago, that they’d stick together.   
And everytime Dante heard that vow, the one Remus kept promising over and over again ringing in his ears, he pictured Remus’ face, hurt and crumpling as his own voice hissed ‘ _ useless’ _ at him.   
Dante put down his pen and rubbed his face. He could barely pay attention to his lecture.    
How could he say that?    
How could he  _ say _ that?!   
He was glad these lectures were recorded, otherwise he was completely fucked.   
But soon, it was over, and he was on his way across campus to go track down the gifts he’d been planning and was reading and re-reading the speech he had been tailoring all day.   
“Hey, Dante!” came a voice, a voice so similar to Remus’ and Dante’s head snapped up to realise that it was  _ Roman  _ who was crossing the campus, waving him down, a smile on his face.   
“Oh,” he said, trying to sound bright. “Hello, Roman.”   
“How’re you?” Roman said.    
“Uh,” Dante floundered. “Fine.”   
Roman scrutinised his face, the red-rimmed eyes, the gloomy atmosphere hanging around him, and pieced two and two together.   
“You and Remus fought, didn’t you?” he said, stopping Dante at a nearby park bench and making him sit. “I got a few weird texts from Remus earlier, and he didn’t really explain himself.”   
Dante crumpled, burying his face in his hands.   
“I’m the worst,” he cried, and the words that had been boiling over dripped off his tongue uncontrollably. “I was so awful to him. Some of the stuff I said, I sounded like that shit your father used to say.”   
“Oh,” Roman’s face paled. “Shit.”   
“Yeah,” Dante quavered. “I’ve been obsessing over it all day. I’m apologising to him tonight. I’m… I…”   
Roman put a hand on his shoulder.    
“You’ll work it out,” he said. “You guys are such a unit, honestly, it’s fearsome.”   
Dante smiled thinly at that, and fiddled with his speech in his hands, carefully folding it.    
Roman watched his face closely.   
“Look after him, Dante,” Roman suddenly said, voice quiet. “Every relationship has its bumps, but I’m… worried about him.”   
“I’ll try,” Dante instantly swore. “By god, I’ll try.”   
“That’s enough for me,” Roman smiled. “Go get ‘em, tiger. Call me on how it goes. And tell him to text me, okay?”   
“Okay,” Dante agreed, rising to his feet and grabbing Remus’ brother in a tight hug. “Thank you. See you later, Roman.”   
“See ya,” Roman said, and watching Dante book it across the courtyard, making a beeline for his car. 

He was walking up the path to the front door, packet of cookies tucked into his coat and a small bouquet of rainbow carnations (he knew Remus liked those ones, more for the novelty of them) in the crook of his arm, Dante went to open the front door when something caught his eye.   
He stopped dead.   
It wasn’t… was it?   
What else could it be? A cry left his lips, causing the others to come running. The flowers fell from his hands and Dante was on his knees in the garden before he knew it, digging something out of the dirt in a frenzy.   
He felt someone’s hands on his shoulders, and he could only hold up the plastic dinosaur figurine, a stegosaurus half covered with dirt and a letter dangling from its neck by a yellow ribbon, up into the light.    
The tears leaked down his face.    
Dante sat back on his knees and fumbled for the letter. Someone helped him up. Two voices tried to calm him as he was led inside and sat down, but he had untied the ribbon and smoothed the letter out on the table, trying to read through his tears.   
There was no other way to put it.   
He’d fucked up. Majorly.   
Remus was  _ gone _ .


	14. Chapter 14

Remus’ drive had been long, and uneventful. With his phone still sitting on his desk at home, abandoned, he had no music except that one trashy Christmas CD Virgil jokingly bought him a year ago, and Remus quickly decided he’d far rather listen to shitty Christmas music than nothing.   
He felt awful. There were no two ways about it.   
He felt like shit.   
So... he ran.   
But unlike before, this was the first time he’d ever run  _ away _ from his soulmates.   
...   
_ Expendable. _ _   
_ Remus winced, and turned the radio up louder.   
_ Useless. _   
He wiped his face on his shoulder and kept driving.   
Honestly, he wasn’t sure where he was going. All he had was  _ ‘away.’ _ And, well, that was something he could work with.

Unlike two years ago, he didn’t have any money on him. He didn’t have his guitar. He didn’t have his sketchbooks. He didn’t have his phone. He didn’t have anything but his car with half a tank of gas, and his thoughts that wouldn’t go away.   
He didn’t have class today or tomorrow, but he did on Wednesday to Friday. He emailed his professor saying he was sick. He took his sick leave at work. He also closed his commissions without much explanation.    
He wrote his soulmates each a letter, left them in places he knew they’d find, and left.   
And this time, he wasn’t even sure if he was coming back.

This whole car ride, he was on autopilot. It seemed his hands took the wheel, and he came back to himself in time to realise he was pulling up outside his parents’ house.   
Home.   
Remus blanched at the sight. He’d made a three and a half hour car journey, and not even noticed.    
He didn’t have enough gas to get back to the flat. He didn’t have any way of contacting anyone. He didn’t even know if his parents would take him in, honestly.   
But he needed something. Someone.   
And then the front door opened, and standing in the doorway was his mother, looking confused, but waving at him from where he sat in his car. Oh, right. She would’ve seen him pull up from the kitchen window, Remus realised.   
Well, they knew he was here now.    
Remus got out of his car, head down, and locked it, before walking up the drive to greet his mom.   
“Well, hey,” his mother said with a surprised laugh, immediately catching him in a huge hug, despite how much taller Reman was. “You didn’t tell us you were coming! Not that I’m upset, of course.”   
“There was…” Remus tried to bite down his broken tone, but his mother was already pulling back, examining his face, concern shining in her eyes. “There’s been a…”   
He swallowed, and couldn’t find a nice way to put it.   
Something in Claire’s face softened, and she ushered him inside and gestured for him to hang up his jacket.    
“Well, you’re just in time for tea, if you like!” 

Both his parents were delighted to see him, which made for a most appreciated change of pace. Daniel was asking after his degree, which got a bit hard to describe after his most recent argument, but his parents weren’t stupid. They could tell that something was up, and his study was a sore spot. So instead, they filled the air with stories, like they always used to do over the dinner table after a rough day of school. Claire had some banging stories about some of the people from church; there was a particularly mischievous pair of choir boys who were very good at pranking the preacher during services, particularly during the long and drawling sermons. Daniel’s anecdotes about some of the…  _ fascinating _ stories and letters that came in to the local newspaper hoping to be published were ridiculous.    
“And the letter finished with the line, ‘in conclusion, I believe dogs should be able to vote.’ And let me tell you, that’s a letter I will never forget,” his dad mused, leaning back in his chair, hands tucked over his belly, a twinkle in his eye as Remus laughed.   
“I agree with this guy, honestly!” he nodded along. “So did you publish it?”    
“Oh, I wanted to,” Daniel said seriously, though a grin cracked his pokerface. “But Craig said no, the coward.”   
Remus barked with laughter again.    
“I hope you kept it,” Claire said.    
“No!” Daniel pouted. “I wasn’t allowed to, either! That’s the saddest part, honestly. I would’ve framed it and given it to you for Christmas.”   
Claire sighed dramatically.    
“No respect for modern literature,” she mused.   
Remus giggled, chortling into his hands.   
Claire grinned at him, and winked, which set her son off into laughter again.

Later, over a cup of tea and a terrible movie they were… less  _ watching _ , and more just  _ picking apart, _ his parents glanced at each other, and Daniel moved to pause it.   
“Remus,” Claire said gently.   
Remus shrunk in on himself and took a sip of his drink, peering at his parents over the rim of his mug.    
“...We don’t need to know why you’re here,” Daniel said, voice just as gentle as his wife’s. “But we do want to make sure you’re okay. Do you have somewhere to stay for the night?”   
Remus blinked at them, before turning his attention back to his tea.   
After a moment, he mumbled, “...no.”   
“You’re more than welcome to use your old room,” Claire offered instantly.    
“Or even Roman’s, if you want to shake it up,” Daniel joked.   
Remus cracked a smile, but he was blinking rapidly to fight back tears.   
“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’m sorry for dropping in like this… but I had nowhere else to go.”   
The tears spilled over. Claire immediately set down her tea and scooted in close to take her son in her arms, letting him sob against her. Daniel moved all their cups out of the way, before sitting on Remus’ other side and putting an arm around him as well.    
They didn’t ask. They didn’t push.   
They just let him cry.   
Remus hadn’t been able to feel this vulnerable for a while.    
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, but it was cut short by his mother quietly shushing him.   
“Nothing to apologise for,” Daniel murmured, and he stood, patting Remus on the shoulder and gathering the empty tea cups to take them to the kitchen.    
Remus’ tears eventually petered out, and Claire passed him a tissue box to clean himself up with. Remus took the offer, and let his mother just watch him, evaluating him, and in all honesty, it didn’t feel invasive or rude.    
“Do your soulmates know you’re here?” she asked softly.   
Remus hesitated, and shook his head quietly.   
“I told them I’d be going away for a bit,” he mumbled. “I didn’t really expect to end up here, honestly.”   
Claire’s lips twitched sympathetically.   
“Did you tell your brother?”   
Again, Remus shook his head.   
“I left my phone behind,” he said. “I left everything behind.”   
“Do you want to tell them?” she offered, standing and offering a hand up to her son.   
Remus hesitated again, but took her hand and let her help him upright.   
“I don’t know,” he murmured.    
“Well, you’re more than welcome to use the landline,” Claire offered as they went into the kitchen.   
“Or even one of our phones,” Daniel pitched in.   
Remus bit his lip.    
“I don’t know,” he said again, feeling more and more like a broken record.   
“That’s okay,” Claire told him. “Do you want to sleep? You must’ve had a big day.”   
Remus rubbed his arms and nodded, small and meek.   
“You know where your room is, then,” Daniel nodded to the hallway. “And you can pinch some of my pajamas, if you need.”   
Remus thanked them quietly, and went to his old room.   
It was smaller than he remembered. But it still felt comfortable. Familiar. It was all he could do to strip down to his underwear and shirt, and crawl into bed, exhausted enough that he drifted off to sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.


	15. Chapter 15

In the morning, his mother woke him with a cheery knock and a promise of breakfast. Remus dragged himself out of bed and through the shower, and bantered with his mother at the kitchen table dressed in yesterday’s clothes as his father clattered around the stove.  
As his father was about to plate up, Remus stood, steeling his resolve.   
“Can I borrow the phone?” he asked.   
His mother handed it to him without a word.   
“Cool,” Remus said dispassionately. “I’ll be back in a tick.”

He slipped into the other room and dialed his brother’s number, sick to his stomach but also… hopeful.  
After a couple rings, Roman picked up.   
“...Hello? Mom?”   
He sounded like he’d just woken up, and also extremely confused.   
“...Hi, Roman,” he said.   
There was a loud swear that had Remus tilting the phone away from his ear, and a crash.   
“Are you okay?” he asked.   
“I might’ve fell out of bed. Whatever. Remus! Are _you_ okay?! Why are you at home?” Roman practically hollered. “My god, Remus, everyone’s worried sick about you.”   
Remus was confused. They were?   
“Why?”   
Oops. He didn’t mean to say that.   
“Why?” Roman echoed. “My god, Remus. Because we care about you, that’s why. Dante was basically in tears all of yesterday. He was trying to figure out how to apologise and now he’s afraid he’ll never get the chance.”   
Remus’ heart was in his throat.   
“I’m sorry I upset him,” he said, voice hoarse.   
“Oh, no,” Roman fumbled. “No, no, that’s not what I meant, Re. You _know_ that’s not what I meant. We were... afraid. That you might’ve… y’know...”   
“It’s still tempting,” Remus said bluntly, and oops, he was crying again. “I… I didn’t know where to go.”   
“You could’ve come see me,” Roman offered quietly. “I have a couch.”   
“You’re so close by,” Remus tried to explain. “A-and you would’ve told on me.”   
Roman hesitated, then sighed.   
“I’m sorry,” he said, and Remus blinked in confusion.   
“Why are _you_ sorry?” he queried, rubbing his forehead tiredly.   
“I’m sorry I can’t be the brother you need,” Roman said, and he choked on his own words, and from the way his voice cracked, Remus could tell he was crying.   
“It’s not your fault,” Remus said. “Goddamn it, Roman. It’s not your fault. Don’t even think it is for a _second_.”   
“It’s not yours, either.”   
“Bullshit,” Remus grumbled. “Dante made his points clear, and he was right.”   
“He told me he regretted every single word that came out of his mouth,” Roman corrected him forcefully. “He told me some of what he said and I wanted to fucking punch him. I still do. No one has _any right_ to speak to you like that. I did that to you once and it drove you away. I can’t see it happen again, Remus, I can’t.”   
Remus was crying too, unable to hide his gasps as his shoulders shook.   
“I’m sorry,” he said again.   
“I know,” Roman said somberly. “I’m sorry _you_ ever feel you have to feel sorry.”   
Remus shook his head with a chuckle.   
“I’ll pretend that made sense.”   
Roman laughed a little too, but it was too sad to be genuine.   
“You… you can tell them, if you like,” Remus said, staring at the patterned carpet he grew up staring at. “Lo and Vi and Dee. Tell them I’m alive.”   
“Do you want me to say you’re at the ‘rents?” Roman offered. “I don’t have to tell them anything you don’t want me to.”   
“You can tell them,” Remus confirmed, drumming his fingers on his leg. “It will keep them from worrying too much.”   
“You left your phone behind,” Roman quietly stated, his question hidden in his words. “You left everything behind.”   
Remus shifted on his feet.   
“I’m still trying to make up my mind as to whether I’m coming back,” he said, painfully truthful.   
Roman was silent for a beat.   
“I hope you do,” he whispered. “We found out you put in sick leave. You have time to figure yourself out. ...I would like to see you again, brother.”   
Remus didn’t reply.   
“Can I come?” Roman asked. “Can I make the drive and come out and see you?”   
Remus swallowed hard.   
“No.”   
“Okay,” Roman said.   
“I’m sorry for distracting you from study, Ro.”   
“Being worried for someone’s safety is not ‘being a distraction’,” Roman lectured. “I love you, Remus, and I want to make sure you’re okay.”   
Remus choked up.   
“Okay,” he mumbled. “Thank you. Love you too.”   
“A-alright,” Roman said softly. “I gotta go to class soon. I’ll pass on your message. ...See you soon, Re.”   
Remus couldn’t fight down his little smile.   
“See you soon, Ro,” he mumbled back.   
There was a beat of nothing.   
Then Remus hung up.

He stared at the phone in his hand, before wandering back into the kitchen and hanging it back in its receiver. His father patted the extra space at the table, and Remus sat.  
“I called Roman,” he offered in explanation.   
“Everything okay?” his mother asked.   
“Surprisingly so,” Remus quipped with a snort.   
His parents let him eat without further questioning, and then Remus helped clean the dishes.   
When all that was done, Claire proposed a shopping trip.   
Remus went along with it, expecting it to be an excuse for his mother to buy things she’d been eyeing up on the shelves for a while, but to his surprise, it was actually Claire taking him around to a few different clothing stores, and buying _him_ new clothes.   
“Mom, you don’t have to do all this,” he pressed as his mother basically dragged him up to the counter.   
“Nonsense,” she exclaimed. “You can _not_ stay in your one set of clothes for the time you’re staying, and also I bet all your clothes are as ratty as what you’re wearing.”   
Remus smiled despite himself as his mother loaded him up with bags. He hated to admit she was right… but she was right.   
After that, they met up with Daniel (who had just wandered out of the bookstore with a few purchases of his own), and then they got mall food.   
It was honestly a great time. Remus hadn’t spent this much time with his parents in quite a while, and the fact that they were actively trying to cheer him up meant the world.   
After that, they went home and Claire washed and tumble-dried his new clothes, sending Remus to bed with new, soft, fluffy pajamas.   
He settled in to sleep for the night with a tiny smile creeping onto his face, musing that maybe today was… alright.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has some spiralling negative thoughts, and a long discussion around people who have died. There is some brief discussion of suicide, as well.

He wandered into the kitchen the next morning to see his father having a heated discussion over the phone while his mother hovered anxiously.    
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” his father was almost growling into the receiver. “I’m not letting that happen.”   
Remus shot him a questioning glance.   
Daniel grimaced, then covered the receiver and mouthed  _ ‘it’s Dante _ ’ at him.   
Remus’ world raced to a halt.   
Claire grabbed his arm to steady him as Remus’ knees attempted to give out on him.   
“He’s in the house, yes,” Daniel said. “But no. He’s still asleep. He rocked up to our place absolutely exhausted and in pieces. I don’t know what you said to him, and I do  _ not _ want to have any part in facilitating you pulling that little stunt again.”   
Remus stared at his father, mostly in shock.    
“Put it on speaker,” he said quietly, too quietly to be picked up over the receiver.   
Daniel nodded, and pressed the right button.   
“I know, sir,” came Dante’s voice, and he sounded extremely distressed. “I know, I don’t want to hurt him, I swear. But Roman said he was here, and I wanted to apologise, if he’d listen.”   
Remus felt sick. He felt rooted to the chair even as the world began to swim around him. He didn’t understand what was going on, honestly.   
“I think it’s not a good time,” Daniel shook his head. “In fact, I’m not sure if it will  _ ever _ be a good time.”   
Remus glared at his father for that comment, but what punched the air out of him was Dante’s broken little, “I know,” in response.   
Remus stared at the phone on that table, mouth hanging open, and it was almost like he was shocked into tears, and he didn’t even realise he was crying until Claire quietly offered him a tissue.    
“I…”    
He heard Dante sigh heavily.   
“Thank you, sir,” he said. “Thank you for your time. Just… is he safe?”   
Daniel looked up at Remus across the table.   
“Yes,” he replied. “He is.”   
Dante was quiet, before mumbling a goodbye and hanging up.

“That’s brave of him,” Daniel grumbled as he hung up the phone and put it back in its holder on the counter.    
“He sounded upset,” Remus stated, trying to process this information.   
“He should,” his mother said sharply. “I know you aren’t exactly thin-skinned, Remus. He must’ve said some awful things to you.”   
Remus rubbed his arms.   
“Nothing unjustified,” he mumbled. “Nothing I haven’t heard before.”   
“That doesn’t make him  _ right _ ,” his father declared. “And it sounds like he knows he was wrong, too.”   
Remus shook his head, but the tension seemed to drain from his posture at his father’s words.   
He stared at the table for a moment longer, before something in his head clicked, and he looked up at his parents.   
“It’s Tuesday,” he said. “Shouldn’t you guys be at work?”   
Claire and Daniel glanced at each other.   
“We took some time off to make sure you were okay,” Claire said.   
Remus blinked at them.   
“You didn’t need to do that.”   
“Oh, no,” Daniel shook his head. “I think we did. And besides, we wanted to.”   
Remus expected to feel guilty.    
But it was almost like he didn't have the energy to be. He just silently leant towards his mother, and Claire got the picture, capturing him in a quick, warm hug.   
“Thank you,” he hummed.   
“It’s important that you know someone cares about you,” Claire told him, patting his back twice before letting go. “And you’ll always have us in your corner.”   
“We’d be shitty parents otherwise,” Daniel smiled.   
Remus choked down a sob at that, and swallowed down another thank you. He was beginning to sound like a broken record.

So, in theory, today should have been a good day. In theory, it should have been better than yesterday. Because time moves forward, and Remus should too.    
But the phone call threw him for a loop. And it turned Remus back on himself, back on all the thoughts and assumptions that drove him out here, effectively undoing yesterday’s attempt of making him feel better.   
Him and his dad went for a walk after lunch. Remus barely remembered it.    
It had him pacing the kitchen at 1am, brewing tea and trying to pretend that this was not the reason he was awake.    
A soft clearing of a throat dragged his attention outside his own head, and Remus jolted to a halt to see his mother, wrapped in a dressing gown and hair messy, dark circles under her eyes but it was obvious she hadn’t just woken up, either.    
“Hey,” she said.   
Remus’ shoulders drooped.   
“Tea?” he offered.   
“Sure,” she accepted, padding across the kitchen floor in her slippers to go sit down.    
A few moments later, Remus joined her, placing a mug of tea down in front of her.   
“You were never a big tea drinker,” Claire commented idly. “When did that change?”   
Remus stared down at the cup in his hands.   
“Whenever Dante’s stressed, he makes tea,” he replied, trying to keep his voice even. “I guess it’s worn off on me. I don’t even know if I like tea that much, honestly.”   
“I see.”   
Claire drank her tea and watched her son.   
She looked like she wanted to say something.   
“What?” Remus asked, looking up and fixing his gaze on her. He couldn’t handle this much scrutiny. Not right now.   
Claire set her tea down and ran her finger around the lip.    
“I have a story,” she said hoarsely. “That… relates to your troubles. And could help you reach a conclusion. About soulmates. ...If you want to hear it.”   
“What do you know about soulmates?” Remus asked, and despite the loaded nature of that question, his tone was quiet and guarded. This was a genuine question. He’d take all the help he could get.   
Claire seemed to be battling with herself for a moment, before she sighed. Remus watched her slide her arm out of her dressing gown and twist in her seat. She tugged the shoulder of her shirt down and showed Remus what inked her skin.   
Two soulmarks.   
But more importantly, two  _ faded _ soulmarks.

“Oh,” Remus gasped, and the implications of what his mother was showing him began to trickle in.    
“Hmm,” Claire agreed, turning back and hiding them away again, shouldering her dressing gown back on. “I know a bit.”   
Remus was gaping. It was rude. But he couldn’t help himself.   
“What happened?” he asked, the words tumbling out before he could register whether or not they should be said. “Who were they?”   
Despite the insensitivity of his questions, his mother chuckled at him a little, before sitting back more comfortably and drinking her tea.    
Then,   
“Her name was Josie,” his mother said softly. “Well, it was Josephine, but she hated being called by her full name.”   
Remus could only stare.    
“She was down to earth, but in a very rough-and-tumble way. She was good with her hands. If our car broke down, she could fix it herself. She was an apprentice mechanic, see. She enjoyed wearing bright pink lipstick and her brother’s shirts, which he got fed up with her stealing and just let her have after high school.”   
“You met in high school?” Remus asked, and his eyes were shining with unshed tears.   
“Yes,” Claire said, a most soft smile on her face. “Senior year. And it turned out we were going to the same college! Oh, it was like something out of a movie.”   
Claire had her eyes on the ceiling, like she was unable to look anywhere else or she couldn’t continue.   
“She was a sweeping romantic. Dramatic. Had the most beautiful voice. She’d serenade me on a ratty old guitar she bought at an antique’s shop one time. She had short, curly black hair and the most warm brown eyes. S-she was wonderful.”   
And quietly, tears began to slip down his mother’s face, but she didn’t stop her story, and Remus didn’t interrupt.   
“T-there was a car crash,” she said, and it was so hard to find more words to describe what she needed to say, so she took a drink instead, trying to figure out what to say.   
“You don’t have to relive it,” Remus whispered, putting his hand over hers and squeezing gently. “You don’t have to hurt yourself, Mom.”   
“No,” she murmured. “I had wanted to tell you this for a while. I just could never find the time or place.”   
Her gaze fell to the table. She squeezed Remus’ hand back, and tried to press on.    
“It was winter,” she said. “So the roads were icy. Josie was driving. And she was a good driver. We couldn’t say the same for the truck…”   
She gasped for breath, closing her eyes.   
“Mom,” Remus tried to cut in.   
“The truck,” she continued. “He lost traction and, well, I’m sure you can imagine what happened.”   
Remus felt sick.   
“Josie did her best to avoid it, but it ended up taking out the whole driver’s side of the car.”   
Suddenly, Claire slumped, her elbows on the table as she covered her face with her hands.   
“She died on impact,” she said in a wobbly voice. “And I was in hospital for weeks.”   
Remus’ hand was shaking, his whole body was shaking, as he scooted his chair closer and wrapped an arm around his mother, resting his head on her shoulder.   
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and he was crying too. He couldn’t imagine  _ losing _ one of his soulmates. He couldn’t bear the thought of his soulmarks going grey, the colour draining out of them and-   
He held his mother tighter as she managed to get a handle on her voice again.   
“There was nothing we could’ve done,” she said dully, and it sounded like a phrase she had told herself often. “But without her…  _ god _ , it was hard. It felt like something was ripped out of my chest, like I had lost a whole sense overnight. Just a part of me, gone. I wasn’t sure if that was me not coping with losing Josie, or a soulmate thing.”   
She sat up, and wiped her face dry with the sleeve of her gown.    
“I believe it was both, but I can confirm that was a soulmate thing,” she said plainly. “Mostly because of my second mark.”   
Remus’ gut twisted.   
“Who were they?” he found himself asking.   
Claire laughed, small and bitter.   
“I don’t know,” she stated.    
Remus stared at her in horror.   
“I just remember having this most awful sense of foreboding,” Claire continued, and she gestured with her hands and tried to ignore how they were shaking. “I remember going into my bathroom one night and checking my shoulder - I just had this  _ feeling _ . And you know what an unfilled soulmark looks like. Dark grey. And…”   
She brought her hand up to her mouth, taking a few deep breaths, like she was trying not to cry out.    
“I watched it,” she whispered. “I watched it just… fade. Before my eyes.”   
Remus covered his mouth too. What could he say?   
“It was like I was watching someone bleed out,” Claire said, gaze distant, like she was somewhere else right now. “Watching someone I was supposed to love bleed out in front of me and I was absolutely powerless to do  _ anything _ about it. I couldn’t save them. I couldn’t comfort them. I…”   
She forced herself to take a breath.   
“I couldn’t go to their funeral. I had no idea where they died. Where they lived. What their name was. They could’ve lived in South Korea, or Brazil, or even next door, and I wouldn’t have known.”   
Claire pushed her now empty mug across the table, away from her. Remus tried to think of something to say, and took a drink instead.   
“And I felt that same loss,” she said. “A lifetime away, it felt as raw and real as losing Josie. The same, just, emptiness, that part you’ll never get back. Some cosmic force bound us, and… I failed them.”   
“No,” Remus interrupted. “You can’t’ve failed someone you never met. It was their own situation. It was their choice. And they should’ve known.”   
“I think they did,” Claire murmured. “And they decided I wasn’t worth it.”   
Remus slammed his mug down and turned in his chair properly so he could pull his mother into a big, tight embrace, holding her close as she couldn’t help but cry.    
“That’s not fair,” he declared as Claire buried her head in his shirt. “It couldn’t be your fault. I’m so sorry you had to relive that.”   
“I chose to tell you,” Claire said with a shake of her head, quiet and subdued. “But there’s a moral to my story, Remus.”   
Remus let go, letting his mother settle back into her chair, and clasping his hands in his lap.    
“Grief is awful,” she said. “It twists you up inside and makes everything seem so bleak. It makes you sad and angry and makes you say stuff you never would otherwise. It drains you. ...But you can’t give in. Even pushing through it out of spite is better than letting it overwhelm you.”   
Remus was nodding along. It made sense.   
“And the other part…”    
Claire took a deep breath.   
“If you kill yourself, there’s no telling how far those ripples will go,” she told him.   
Those words cut right to the heart of Remus’ festering emotions, and he could only stare as tears, thick and hot, began to leak down his face.    
“There will be people who will regret they never met you. There will be people missing you. There will be people living half a life because they never knew you were that part they were missing,” she pressed on, crying as well, but words building with fervour, like these were the most important thing she’d ever say in her life.   
“How can you be so sure?” Remus whispered, and hated how his mother’s face dropped when he said that.    
“Because I lived it,” she whispered back, cupping his face so gently in her hands, and using the end of her gown’s sleeve to dry his eyes. “I lived with the consequences of it. And I won’t say I wasn’t tempted myself. The world convinces you the be-all-end-all for us is our soulmates, and that our lives end without them. Your father has had to deal with that all his life, because his soulmarks never appeared. I had to learn that there was more to life than pre-made romance. It was such a valuable lesson, too.”   
She sat back, smiling fondly at Remus despite the tear tracks on her face.   
“And I count my blessings,” she said, though her voice was thick and wobbly. “Because Daniel loves me, and I love him. And you and Roman are the most wonderful children I could’ve asked for, roadbumps and all. And I look at the two of you, and I think about how similar you are to Josie.”   
Remus couldn’t say a word.   
“And I know she would’ve loved you,” Claire whispered, taking Remus’ hands in her own. “And she’d be proud of you.  _ I’m _ so proud of you. Your father’s so proud of you.”   
“I don’t…” Remus stammered. “I’m not… You shouldn’t.”   
Claire laughed a little.   
“You don’t get to tell me I can’t love you,” she said in a playful tone, and she stood so she could stand over him and give him the biggest hug she could. “Life is hard. Relationships are hard. And the world likes to tell us that these ‘soulmate’ things will work with no effort because they’re ‘supposed to’, but that’s  _ bullshit _ . All relationships take work. I know a couple at church who are soulmates, but are divorced, because they can’t stand the sight of each other.”   
Remus hugged back tightly, gasping little breaths out and trying to keep from crying any more.    
“And you can’t pull all the weight,” Claire advised, smoothing Remus’ hair gently. “If you all want your relationship to work, you have to all be able to communicate calmly, and share the load. And it’s  _ allowed  _ to not work out.”   
“But I want it to!” Remus exclaimed, hiding his face.   
“Then it will,” Claire stated sagely. “If your partners want it to, too. You will make it work. And I know what your boys are like. I believe it will all work out.”   
Remus was silent for a beat, before he wriggled out of her arms and stood.   
“I think I would like to go home tomorrow,” he said quietly.   
“That’s okay,” Claire said. “Do you have enough gas?”   
“...No.”   
“That’s okay,” Claire reaffirmed. “We’ll stop at the gas station first thing in the morning and then we can send you on your way. I hope this story helped you, and I’m sorry if it upset you more. You’re being so very brave, Remus. I hope you know that I’m proud of you.”   
Remus felt like he should argue. But he was so tired, too tired to be self-deprecating tonight, so he just accepted the praise with a tiny smile and a hint of red colouring the tips of his ears.    
Claire stood up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek.   
“Go to bed, dear,” she instructed. “You have a big drive tomorrow.”   
“Yes, Mom,” Remus replied, pressing a far rougher, scratchier kiss into her forehead before turning at taking their cups to the sink to rinse them. “Have a good sleep.”   
“You too,” she smiled, and she slunk off into the darkness to head back to bed.   
Remus loitered over the sink for a moment more, before taking her cue and trudging off to his old room to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter where it all comes to a head. There is an attempted suicide. Just warning you in advance.

The next morning, everything went smoothly. Remus was up, showered and dressed in good time, and was having toast with his parents, chattering over their coffee, before they helped him get gas, as promised, and Remus was being seen off with hugs and words of encouragement, and most importantly, snacks.    
It was going smoothly.   
Almost too smoothly.    
But who was Remus to judge? He deserved some smooth sailing, after all that.    
The only thing that could  _ visibly  _ be off about his day was the fact it was  _ absolutely bucketing _ with rain. Enough that he had to be careful driving. But he could do that! He’d driven in worse conditions before. And there was something both lonely and peaceful about driving in the torrential rain. Gave him time to reflect.   
And reflect Remus did.   
Mostly on this lingering bad feeling he had. He’d woken up with what felt like a rot set in his gut. After his mother’s story last night, it was making him...  _ anxious,  _ to say the least.    
But Remus turned up the Christmas music and tried not to think too hard. He must just be paranoid. 

Well, he  _ would’ve  _ thought that it was just paranoia, but the more into this journey he got, the more this feeling grew. And it wasn’t just nerves. It wasn’t something illogical, because (and Remus wasn’t sure how he knew, but he  _ did) _ it had to do with the faint prickling on his wrist, across Dante’s soulmark.   
Now he was severely regretting leaving his phone behind.    
“Don’t do anything stupid, babe,” he whispered to the mark, running a finger across his wrist. “I’m begging you.”   
He had to admit, he was terrified.   
It dragged the first hour of the drive on painfully long. The feeling grew, so intense it was hard to sit still, let alone drive.    
Remus made himself slow down to more of a cruise, thankful the roads weren’t busy, and he hadn’t reached the motorway yet. Something was off. Something was  _ bad. _ Something was up with Dante, and something was happening nearby.   
He was trying not to jump to conclusions, but it was getting  _ very _ hard to stay impartial.   
Remus tried to remember to breathe. He kept a careful eye on the roadside as well, in case he so happened to see his soulmate there, for some reason or other.

The feeling got worse as he got close to the bridge.  
There was a bridge, a big one, that crossed the most dangerous part of the river that wove its way through the state. Remus had seen what the water looked like at the bottom, one time when his parents had taken him and his brother to see, and they had a picnic nearby.   
It was raging, frothing white, full of rocks, and, to be frank, deadly.  
And this feeling rose to choke him, swelling his throat closed with just how abrasive, smothering, and _horribly important_ this feeling was.   
Remus pulled over, because he couldn’t breathe, and he was struck with an urge. An urge to get out the car and run. Run somewhere.  
Run to someone.  
Save someone.  
He peered through his windscreen, and saw, on the other side of the bridge, a car he recognised. A beat up, old, yellow car that spent most of its time parked up their driveway at home.  
Dante’s car.  
“No,” Remus gasped. “No, don’t you dare.”  
He turned his focus to the bridge itself. It had wide walkways either side of the road, and he squinted through the rain, trying to see.  
And yes, it did look like someone was there.  
“No.”  
Remus was out the car in a heartbeat.  
There was the skidding of tires and shouting as another car pulled up behind Dante’s abandoned one, and three people clambered out, but Remus was running, running across the road and splashing through the rain. He was soaked to the bone instantly, but that did nothing for the chill that settling in his stomach.   
“Dante!” he shouted. “Dante!”  
The person was on the other side of the railing. It didn’t seem they’d really heard him over the roar of the rain. But they had heard a shout, and that was enough to make them hesitate.  
Remus ran.  
‘ _We’re gonna stick together, right?’_  
He put his head down and tried to push himself faster.  
 _‘Yeah,’_ Dante’s voice echoed in his ears. _‘Yeah, we are.’_  
It was him. There was no one else it could be.   
Recognisable in his favourite yellow flannel and his hair dark and wet, pressed flush to his scalp under the onslaught. Recognisable in the three lines of soulmarks around his wrist, on the hand that was clutching the railing tightly.  
Recognisable as that hand let go.  
 _“No!”_   
The scream was Remus’.  
He lunged over the railing, and-

looped his arms around Dante’s chest.

Dante cried out in shock, eyes going wide.   
“Don’t you dare!” Remus screamed, tears mixing with rainwater. “Don’t you  _ dare _ even  _ think about it!” _   
“...Remus?”    
His voice was so quiet, almost  _ lost. _   
“Yeah, Dee,” Remus sobbed, clutching him tight and trying to pull them back in. “It’s me, babe. I’m so sorry.”   
Dante was crying, his whole body wracked with sobs as Remus tried to keep his grip on him.    
“We’re gonna be okay,” Remus promised, and the position he was left in, he couldn’t quite pull them both back. He wasn’t strong enough to do this on his own. But those strangers in the car, maybe they’d help. He just had to hold on. “I promise, Dante. We stick together, okay? I promised you. I promised you we’d stick together.”   
Dante couldn’t respond, ugly sounds being torn from his throat as he clutched to Remus’ arms locked around his chest.   
“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “Remus, I’m sorry.”   
“If you try and jump now, I’ll never forgive you,” Remus hollered, straining against the wind and against gravity. “We can make this work. I swear it.”   
“You were always good at making promises,” Dante mused, voice nearly lost in the wind.   
“And I’m good at keeping promises!” Remus told him, growling with effort. “I’m here. We’re gonna fix this.”   
Dante was crying. And Remus suspected it was the sinking feeling in his chest, that Dante could feel as well. He wasn’t strong enough to save them both.   
“We’re in this together,” he swore, choking on his words. “...I hope they’ll forgive me.”   
“Remus,” Dante said, and there was so much in that word. Loaded with love and pain and time and experience and grief and  _ life _ that Remus could only tighten his grip and try to heave again.   
“Dante,” he said back, trying to channel his desperation, his love, his dedication into the one word. “I love you, Dante.”   
“I love you too,” Dante whispered back. “I’m sorry I killed us.”   
“You haven’t yet!” Remus said, trying to be hopeful.   
The people that had pulled up beside Dante’s car and were shouting before, they had been running towards them, running down the length of the bridge, trying to get to them.    
Remus couldn’t see them, but Dante turned his head to see.    
And the noise he made at the sight was so joyous, it made Remus blink.   
And wordlessly, warm and strong arms surrounded Remus, helping him get a grip on Dante, helping him pull him back, and they went down on the walkway, Dante on top of Remus, and Remus looked up to see it  _ was _ Virgil and Logan, and Roman, all crouching over them, and Remus couldn’t stop crying.   
“It’s okay,” he soothed Dante, who had curled up against him to sob openly. “I love you, Dante. It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”   
Remus carefully sat up, still cradling Dante in his lap, and was immediately tackled by Virgil.   
Virgil didn’t say a word. He just hugged them tightly with a protective growl, eyeliner running in the rain. Logan hugged him too, enveloping Remus’ entire left side with warmth, unable to find words either, but just soundlessly nuzzling into Remus’ neck.   
Remus looked up at Roman with wide eyes, and Roman could only stand for a moment before he fell to his knees in front of them.    
“I’m sorry,” the twins said at the same time.    
They smiled at each other, small and tentative.   
“It’s alright,” they both said, again in sync.   
“Stop pulling a Shining,” Virgil grumbled. “We’re having a moment.”   
Remus laughed. A laugh that was shocked out of him, but was loud and hearty and full of life, full of gladness that he had the four people that meant the most to him there, with him, and everyone was alive, and everyone was okay, and he reached out to Roman.   
“Get in here, you half-boiled cabbage!” he ordered. “We’re having a moment!”   
Roman stared for a beat, but quickly scrambled around to hug his brother, joining the moment.   
“You came back for me,” Dante said quietly, looking up at Remus with wide eyes, Remus could only smile softly and brush his tears away. “After everything I said.”   
“Of course I did,” Remus murmured. “I needed to sort some things out in my head, but there’s one truth I know. I love you, and I’m willing to make it work. Make  _ us  _ work. And all the effort that will require. I promised, Dee.”   
“We stick together,” Dante nodded in agreement, clutching at Remus’ shirt. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re right. I love you. I love all of you. I’m so stupid.”   
“Not stupid,” Remus shook his head. “Grief does weird shit to people. Just… promise me, Dee. Promise me this won’t happen again. Not the argument, I don’t care about that. Just… promise me you won’t try and hurt yourself like this again.”   
Dante ducked his head.   
Virgil tilted his chin back up gently, so they could all see his face.   
“I…” Dante swallowed hard. “I promise.”   
“There’s my boy,” Remus said softly, and he slipped his hand into Dante’s hair and brought him close. For a moment, he hesitated, silently asking permission.   
Dante closed his eyes and lurched forward, catching Remus’ mouth with his own.   
Everything would be alright.   
They’d make it work.   
They were together again.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now.... everything winds down and gets super duper fluffy dgsdfdghsgf

Remus had never really focussed on the future when he was a kid. At school, he was asked what he wanted to do. What he wanted to be. He was asked about soulmates. And jobs. And study. And on and on, and Remus had rolled his eyes and replied that he’d get there when he got there.   
Well, now he was  _ there _ . And he knew for a fact that his past self never would’ve been able to predict where he ended up.

They’d all graduated successfully. Virgil had gone into an internship with a media company straight out of college, which eventually led into a relatively important editor’s role in a prominent news network. Logan ended up rising through the ranks of an IT company, by the time they were in their early thirties sitting comfortably in middle management. Remus’ prediction about Dante was true. He made a  _ terrifying _ lawyer. He passed his bar with flying colours.   
Remus ended up taking longer to finish his degree. He ended up studying digital art and animation as well, and ended up with a very eclectic mix of skills. He found work as a concept artist for a local video game studio.    
They managed to buy a house on the outskirts of town, not too far from a beach where they often went (to try out those long walks everyone kept talking about), with a nice garden, for which Logan proved to have quite a hand.    
After roughly six or seven years of college, Remus spent another five years falling in love with his soulmates even further, before trying to figure out how he could marry them all.

In a world where having multiple soulmates wasn’t in reality  _ that _ uncommon, polygamy was a thing that was legal. So! Remus, logistically, would be able to marry all of his soulmates.   
He just needed to figure out how to go about it.   
First challenge was the proposal. How do you propose to three, busy people, who were very good at not being at the same place at the same time? And also rings? Dante made his opinion on the engagement ring business very clear, but Remus wanted to do something. Get something. Something that’d stay for as long as they lived.    
He went to Roman for help.   
Now, Roman had just starred in his third movie (which was very good, by the way), so he was exhausted, but the moment Remus alluded to a  _ wedding, _ well, the word was like caffeine.   
“Remus!” Roman hooted. “Oh my god!”   
“I haven’t asked yet!” Remus countered, trying to calm his brother down slightly. “But, first question, if I do ask and they all say yes, will you be my best man?”   
“ _ Yes!” _ Roman sobbed, and wrapped his arms around Remus in a bearhug. “Oh my god!! This is so beautiful!”   
“Oh god,” Remus laughed, hugging back and trying to hold his brother in place as Roman started to bounce on the spot, “you’re more excited than me!”   
“Oh just you wait,” Roman threatened with a glint in his eye. “I’m  _ so _ going to help you plan it! So, suits? You would look great in a dress, we need to think about options. Oh! Rings!”   
“Let’s focus on the still-potential engagement,” Remus offered. “Dante thinks-”   
“Engagement rings are a scam, I know,” Roman finished, nodding along. “We aren’t buying diamonds.”   
“I had thoughts,” Remus said, and he pulled a scrapbook towards him.   
Roman raised an eyebrow. It was an inch and a half thick.   
Remus flushed.   
“I had a lot of thoughts,” he mumbled.   
“It shows you care,” Roman smiled, and sat down next to him. “Show me.”

Remus. Was.  _ Terrified. _ _   
_ He was completely in love, and utterly terrified.   
He had managed to nail down all his soulmates for dinner. Trying to find a place was hard. But Roman had an idea Remus quickly fell in love with - Emile and Remy’s place.   
It was special to them, there was nice food, and the moment Remus approached his hopefully future parents-in-law, they squealed with delight and dropped everything to help him prepare.   
“Private function!” Remy declared. “We’ll be all yours for the night.”   
“And! We won’t hang around,” Emile said.    
They glanced at each other.   
“Too much,” Emile corrected himself, punctuated by a joyful laugh. “My little Logan! Getting  _ married!” _ _   
_ Remus hugged them tightly.    
“I’m so happy you’re on board,” he said, and Remus was fighting back tears of relief. “But  _ please, _ don’t push him. I don’t know if he’ll say yes.”   
They stared at him in shock.   
“Gurl,” Remy declared, dragging his sunglasses down his nose with a single finger. “He’s absolutely  _ nuts _ about you. They all are. I don’t know what you’re worried about.”   
“It has to be  _ perfect,” _ Remus pressed, and he held out the scrapbook in his hands. “Look, I might have had a few ideas, and Roman helped me pick engagement rings, and I was wondering, is decorating too much?”   
“Never!” Emile gasped, clapping along enthusiastically. “Show me, show me, show me!! Oh my gosh, you  _ have _ to let me help cater the wedding.”

Everyone he spoke to about it was  _ very keen to help him _ . He rang his parents, to let them know his plans, and his mother almost screamed in delight. His father  _ tried _ to play it cool, but it was obvious with how quickly he offered to help that he was very excited for him as well.    
“Please,” he said with a laugh. “I haven’t even  _ asked  _ them yet!”   
“Well, get on with it!” his father demanded. “I can’t organise your wedding if you don’t propose!”   
Claire started laughing in the background as Daniel started giving him step-by-step instructions over the phone. When Remus couldn’t get him to stop, he just hung up on him instead. 

And… the day came. The day came very quickly. Remus was terrified, but he had asked them to meet him there, and to dress nicely, and bear with him.   
He was there, with a custom ordered ringbox that was three rings long tucked away in an inside pocket of the suit jacket he was wearing. It was a nice, dusty-grey evening suit, with a bottle green tie and a pearly-green-white waistcoat. He’d brushed his hair and styled his moustache. He’d shined his shoes.   
He’d shown up forty-five minutes early to double-check Remy and Emile were going okay, and straighten all the decorations he’d spent his afternoon setting out.   
It wasn’t much! It was subtle; little motifs of their colours spread around the restaurant. And… candles.   
Lots and lots of candles.    
Virgil  _ loved _ the aesthetic of candles. Remus also took care to set the fire extinguisher in a visible and easy-accessible spot. Virgil did  _ not _ like the threat of fire.   
Actually, he didn’t think any of his soulmates did, really.   
He was straightening the tablecloth again when Emile came through from the kitchen and took his hands in their own.   
“Remus,” he cooed. “Come sit down for a moment, hon.”   
Remus went to argue, but he looked around the room, saw that there was nothing left to do but light candles, and sighed, letting Emile guide him to a booth and sit him down.   
“You don’t need to be scared, hon,” Emile told him, the corners of her eyes crinkling with gentle concern. “They’ll love it.”   
“It just needs to be perfect,” Remus gasped out, and he was fumbling for the ring box again, reassuring himself he hadn’t left it behind for the seventh time that evening.    
“It’s gonna be,” Emile assured him. “It’s gonna be as close to perfect as we can get. Thank you, Remus, for letting us help you with this.”   
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else,” Remus said, and he offered his hand quietly, more of a question than an offer.   
Emile took his hand in theirs, sandwiching it between her hands and smiling broadly.    
“It all looks awesome backstage,” he declared, and Remus laughed at the terminology. “Wanna take a peek? And then Remy can help you like the candles, if you want.”   
“That sounds lovely,” Remus agreed, and helped Emile stand. “Thank you so much.”   
“No problem,  _ son _ ,” Emile said, elbowing Remus in the ribs, and the word more than the impact made Remus splutter.   
As he went red in the face, Emile laughed.    
“I’ve been waiting to call you that for years!” he hooted. “Now come along, come along! You  _ must _ see the cake Remy’s decorating.”

Remus was still struggling to light the last few candles on the table when they arrived. Remus was distracted by the jingling of the bell that he missed with the match and just kind of poked the air next to the wick instead.   
“...Remus?” came Dante’s voice and Remus cursed and hurried to light the last candles properly, before blowing out the match and trying to find somewhere to put it.   
“Ah!” he cried. “You’re here! Excellent! Just, uh, give me a moment!”   
And they watched him disappear in the back, and Logan and Virgil glanced at each other in confusion as Remus bustled back out.   
“Splendid, splendid!” he cried, clapping his hands together and sounding more like a ringmaster than a generous host. “I’m so glad you’re here!”   
“Remus?” Dante asked, stepping closer until there was only a table separating them. “Is everything okay?”   
“Everything’s just fine, my dear,” Remus smiled. “I just wanted to do something extra-specially-nice for all of you. You’ve all been working so hard recently.”   
They seemed to buy that explanation well enough.    
Emile and Remy were, as promised, on their best behaviour throughout the night. And everyone was pleasantly surprised each with their favourite meal and a most beautifully decorated cake, all iced in their colours.   
After they ate, Logan cleared his throat gently.   
“Remus,” he said. “I can see just by looking that there was a lot of effort put in to this event tonight. Please don’t misunderstand me, I  _ do _ appreciate it so very much, but… is everything alright?”   
The question seemed to be on Virgil’s and Dante’s faces too. All of them, watching him with shining eyes, and…   
Yes, this was the moment, wasn’t it?   
Remus swallowed hard.   
“Everything is fine,” he said, and if his voice gave out a little, that was okay. “But I will admit, I have a question to ask you all, if you’ll listen.”   
“Of course,” Dante said immediately.   
“Naturally,” Logan agreed.   
“Uh,  _ yeah _ ,” Virgil added.   
Remus took a deep breath, and then blinked around the room, trying to figure out how to go about this.    
“Uh, hang on, I need to get a good angle,” he said quickly, rising to his feet. “If I may ask you all to scoot your chairs around?”   
As they, confusedly, did as he requested, Remus pulled the ring box out of his jacket and stood there, in front of them.   
Dante crossed his legs, watching patiently. Logan folded his hands in his lap and waited. Virgil winked at him and continued chewing at his nail polish.   
Remus closed his eyes, and took another breath to steady himself, and slowly,  _ slowly _ , sank down onto one knee.   
When he opened his eyes, the realisation seemed to have hit everyone.   
“Logan, Virgil, Dante,” he started, and cleared his throat because he was beginning to choke up. “We have been through a lot together, over the years, the  _ literal decades _ we’ve known each other. Ups and downs. A-and I know… uh, I-I know I couldn’t be half the person I am today, in this moment, without you, all of you.”   
He looked up, and he could see Virgil covering his mouth his with hands, eyes already bright. He could see Logan’s carefulness melting away into something far softer, far more tender. He could see Dante’s eyes going wide, and he slowly uncrossed his legs, sitting forward, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.   
“We might be soulmates,” Remus continued, “but our years together has proven to me that we’ve grown into best friends, too. The best I could ask for. And y’know, I’m gonna admit to being a bit sappy here. I have dreamed about spending the rest of my life with you.”   
He looked down at the ring box he’d been resting on his knee, and he took another deep breath.   
“And I was wondering,” he said, opening the box carefully, turning it around in his hands and displaying it… no,  _ offering _ it to the three men before him, the three men he loved more than anything in the world, “if you’d make a sappy idiot’s dreams come true, and do me the honour of... marrying me.”

There was a beat of silence, tenuous and vulnerable, and Remus could only offer the box and wait; afraid of, yet ready for, rejection.

Dante broke the silence by sliding out of his chair and basically tackling him, kissing him so deeply, so sweetly, and when they broke away, Dante was giddy with laughter.    
“Yes!” he cried, fanning his face to try and keep from crying. “Oh my god, Remus! Yes!”   
Logan had risen from his seat, and helped his soulmates to their feet.   
“I hope this answers your question,” he said to Remus, and took him by either side of the neck and pulled him in for a mind-melting kiss as well.   
And when they broke away, Logan smirked at him, a little breathless.    
“In case you might still be wondering,” he said, leaning in and placing a kiss on the end of Remus’ nose, “my answer is yes.”   
Remus turned to look at Virgil, the question in his eyes. Virgil was still glued to his seat, hands over his mouth, and he was quietly crying, but not saying a word.   
Remus smiled softly, and went and knelt down in front of him, a hand on Virgil’s knee.   
“You don’t have to answer tonight,” he told him, squeezing his knee comfortingly. “And… a ‘no’ is also okay. There’s no pressure, Virge.”   
That seemed to shock Virgil out of his silence.   
“What do you mean, a ‘no’ is okay?” he laughed, high and hysterical. “I-I… Of course! Of course, of  _ course, _ Remus!”   
And Virgil was dragging him up to his feet to loop his arms around Remus’ middle and swing him around like they were teenagers again, crying openingly and pressing breathless little kisses all over Remus’ face, in between declarations of ‘yes, yes,  _ yes.’ _ _   
_ _ Yes. _   
Remus’ face split into the broadest grin. His vision blurred from tears of happiness and relief. He felt lightheaded.   
His soulmates and boyfriends- no!   
His soulmates and  _ fiancés  _ surrounded him, and the warmth and comfort was something Remus hoped from this day on, he’d always have.    
It was wonderful.   
And a wondrous day it was when Remus could say that   
he was  _ happy. _


	19. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final part. I hope you enjoyed my story - and I hope I didn't stray too far from your requests, and I hope I wrote sensitively. I hope you have a most wonderful holiday season, whatever you do or don't celebrate, and a happy new year!

The wedding had been _outstanding._ It had been out-there, it had been romantic, it had been a lot of work down by a lot of people who cared. Roman and his parents were very hands-on. Virgil’s parents and aunt came in to help. Logan’s parents were _so there,_ and had cooked up a frenzy. Dante’s parents… sent some funds to help, and a couple cousins along. Dante had shrugged and said he expected nothing less.   
He _was_ surprised when they came for the ceremony.   
The ceremony! It was done on a crisp fall afternoon, under the golden-and-crismon-leaved trees. Remus had initially plotted a spring wedding, but a reminder of Logan’s hayfever was more than enough to spur a redesign.   
And once Remus had a theme, he was off. The first thing he did was sketch it all up, taking a week of practically locking himself in his room and when he finally emerged, he slammed the papers down on the table and asked his soulmates what they thought.   
Everything was just pushing into extravagant, like if Remus let himself run completely wild it would’ve been something fierce, but grounded enough in reality that it didn’t go too far.   
On the day, when the sun began to sink, and the fairy lights draped through the trees took over, Remus cried. It felt magical. It felt like something he couldn’t’ve captured on paper if he’d tried.   
“I hope it’s alright,” he had hiccuped to his _future husbands_ as they stood and just... looked at the venue.   
“It’s _perfect,”_ Dante had interjected immediately.   
“Absolutely,” Virgil had agreed, slinging an arm around Remus’ shoulders.   
Logan was so stunned, he almost forgot to speak.   
“I never believed magic was real,” he had whispered, “even when I was a child. But now? I could almost tell you that it’s here.”   
That was the kicker. Remus frantically tried to keep his tears from ruining his makeup.   
“Oh no,” he blubbered with a giggle. “Roman’ll kill me if I destroy his eyeliner.”

The ceremony was short and sweet. And Remus could not take his eyes off his _husbands._ Dante wore a most stunning gown; a cream and gold thing with a full, multi-layered skirt, and a shimmering grey capelet-sort-of-thing that dripped off his shoulders and melted into a train that Virgil’s youngest cousins carried for him. His hair was wrapped up with strips of the same grey fabric, and he blinked up at Remus, waiting on the altar for him, with a most gentle smile. He looked _astounding_ .   
Logan, processing arm and arm with Dante up the aisle, wore the same suit Remus proposed to him in. It was a crisp black number, but instead of a black shirt underneath, he wore a pale blue dress shirt, and accentuated it with a cobalt blue waistcoat, and his tie. But as Logan drew closer, Remus noticed it wasn’t quite his regular tie. It was the same colour, yes, but with a slightly different pattern. It had yellow, purple and green diagonal stripes stitched across it. Logan seemed most proud of that. If Remus had to guess, he’d say Logan did it himself.   
Remus looked fondly towards Virgil, who was standing, waiting up the front with him. His hair had been freshly re-dyed purple, and his usual makeup was _on point._ Roman had helped, and it just made him _glow._ When Remus had first shown his concept sketches of their wedding to his fiancés, Virgil had pulled him to the side and hesitantly asked if they could include some traditional Korean elements too. Remus had been delighted to agree, and he couldn’t help but swoon at the sight of Virgil smiling that little half-smile that made his eyes glitter, positively _resplendent_ in a purple hanbok.   
When Dante and Logan joined them at the altar, taking their hands, Remus almost could’ve fainted from excitement and nerves. The vows passed by in a blur. He _think_ he made the mistake of asking _‘are you sure?’_ in the middle of his, which got a good laugh out of the crowd.   
He didn’t pay attention to that, only to the tender ‘ _of course’_ he got in return.   
Remus had planned to sweep his soulmates off their feet when the order to ‘kiss the groom’ was issued, but he never got the chance before Dante dipped him deeply and placed a kiss on his lips.   
“Love you,” he had breathed, mismatched eyes shining, before Virgil snatched Remus away and dipped him as well.   
Remus clutched Virgil’s shoulders to try and steady himself as Virgil kissed him as well, helping him stand and whispering a “love you” in his ear before Logan took him in his arms, spun him and dipped him as well. Remus let out a squeak, looking up at Logan’s warm, honey-coloured eyes, before letting Logan kiss him, sweet and soft.   
“Love you,” Logan murmured against his lips.   
“Love you more,” Remus mumbled back.   
He was crying. He was helped to his feet as the others exchanged their kisses, lingering and tender, and Remus’ heart could’ve been mistaken for a kite for how it was soaring.

Honestly, the rest of the celebration was such a blur. Remus could only look down at the simple quartz band on his ring finger, which glinted green under the fairy lights, and try not to cry as he realised over and over that he was _married_ to the three people he loved most in the world. 

A year flew by, and Remus didn’t care about how hard it got sometimes because damn it, he was _married._ His soulmates and _husbands_ were there for him.   
On their first wedding anniversary, Dante treated them to a very fancy dinner, because hey! Celebration, right?   
They ended up at home on the couch, Virgil in Dante’s arms and Logan in Remus’.   
“So,” Dante hummed, resting his chin on the top of Virgil’s head. “How was that?”   
“Lovely,” Logan hummed, nuzzling back into Remus, resting his head on Remus’ shoulder and smiling up at him.   
“Thank you, Dee,” Remus nodded in agreement, leaning down to kiss Logan happily.   
“Did you enjoy it, Vi?” Dante inquired softly.   
Virgil nodded soundlessly, and settled into Dante’s arms more comfortably. Something on his face didn’t quite convince Remus.   
“But…?” he asked, fixing Virgil with a Look.   
“But nothing,” Virgil quickly shot back, too quickly for Remus’ liking.   
“It was a bit too extravagant, I know,” Dante soothed, sighing a little. “I thought I was pushing it. I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.”   
“It wasn’t that!” Virgil sat up, turning and shaking his head at Dante with wide, honest eyes. “I swear! I enjoyed tonight! I’ve just been…”   
He folded in on himself, and Dante gently pulled him back into his arms.   
“...Thinking,” Virgil mumbled into Dante’s chest.   
“Thinking about what?” Logan asked, sitting up to put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.   
“A-about…” Virgil started, before shaking his head. “Nevermind. It’s dumb. I-I don’t want to be brash or whatever.”   
“Have you met me?” Remus demanded. “This relationship was built on _brash._ ”   
Virgil chuckled a little, but it faded out pretty quickly.   
“Virgil,” Dante said, in such a tone it made Virgil look up at him. “We love you. We want you to be happy. And we will not judge you. We will not shame you or turn you away. Speak what’s on your mind, love.”   
Virgil choked on his words, and turned and looked at Logan and Remus, who nodded solemnly in agreement.   
Virgil looked down at his hands, took a deep breath,   
and blurted _“I want kids,”_ as fast he as he could.   
Everyone stammered a half-thought response.   
“See?” Virgil laughed at himself. “Too soon. God, I’m-”   
“Virgil, we’ve literally known each other for fifteen years!” Remus hollered over Virgil’s spiel. “Just… give us a couple days to think about it?”   
Remus glanced at the hesitant looks on the others’ faces.   
“I for one think I am up for it,” he whispered, putting in his bid, and his heart melted at how Virgil’s face lit up. “But I think the ‘only children’ here are going to have to think about it.”   
Logan and Dante flushed as Remus jerked his thumb in their direction, but mumbled in agreement.   
“I want to be able to give you an answer right now,” Dante hummed, giving Virgil a quick hug. “I really do. But I don’t trust myself to be honest right in this moment. Give me a little time, okay?”   
Logan rubbed his arms and nodded towards Dante, as if to say ‘same’.   
“That’s okay,” Virgil smiled, and he kissed each of their cheeks. “I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve been sitting on that for a while, but… thank you for hearing me out.”   
He kissed Logan and Dante again.   
“No rush,” he told them. “Now, maybe we should go to bed.”

It took them a couple of months to come up with an answer. Virgil and Remus found they had quite a few evenings to themselves as Dante and Logan went on walks to talk the idea through thoroughly.   
However, the next month, they had a meeting lined up to meet a kid.   
He was _adorable._ Curly brown hair, big questioning brown eyes hidden behind boxy, ill-fitting glasses. He was short, and thin, and he seemed quite flightly. Not necessarily around the four of them, but around the woman who was ushering them through the door.   
“Ugh, what are _you_ doing here?” she said to a bundle in the back, and Remus watched in surprise as another little boy, an even littler boy, crawled out from behind the bed, and went straight to the bigger boy, tears in his eyes.   
“ _October_ , I told you to leave us alone,” the woman snapped, and went to storm forward, but a quick glance between the four soulmates had Dante ‘stumbling’ into her path.   
“Oh!” he gasped. “I’m so sorry, my shoelaces are undone, I’ve been tripping over my own feet all day.”   
He had grabbed her shoulders to ‘steady himself’ as Remus and Virgil gone forward, Virgil adding an extra layer of protection as Remus knelt down beside the boys.   
“Hi,” he said softly, and the two boys stared at him. “My name is Remus, and these are my soulmates, Virgil, Logan, and Dante. What are your names?”   
They glanced at each other, before the older one opened his mouth.   
“I’m Patton,” he mumbled. “And this is my brother Toby.”   
“Have you two been here long?” Remus asked, focussing only on the boys, and not the woman trying to tell him off in the background.   
“Yeah,” the littlest one, Toby mumbled.   
“Two years,” Patton said. “I... think?”   
Logan had joined Remus on the floor, smiling patiently.   
“I’m Logan,” he lead with. “How would you both like a home?”   
“What?!” the woman said.   
“Really?” Patton perked up, and the smile he hit them with was brighter than sunshine.   
“You won’t leave me behind?” Toby gasped, eyes wide.   
“Oh no! You see, I have a brother too,” Remus confided. “And I’d be very upset if I had to be separated from him.”   
“I think that settles it,” Dante said, clasping his hands with a bright smile. “We definitely have the space for two little ones. You’ve seen our home.”   
“Uh,” said the woman, stunned. “Uh, yes, I suppose.”   
“Excellent!” Dante exclaimed. “Let’s get that paperwork sorted out.”   
And he ushered her from the room, and Logan followed. Paperwork was their forte.   
Virgil came over and introduced himself.   
“May I pick you up?” he asked, and almost immediately found himself with two armfuls of boy.   
“Woah!” Remus laughed as Virgil struggled to his feet, beaming from ear to ear. “Do you need a hand there, dear?”   
“I got it,” Virgil was ecstatic. “I can’t believe it! I’m gonna _love you two_ to the ends of the earth, you hear?”   
Patton was giggling, and he wrapped his arms around Virgil’s neck. Toby was clinging to his shoulder, and he began to cry.   
“Oh,’ Virgil breathed, brow furrowed in concern. “Are you okay, kid?”   
“They said that I was bad, and no one would come for me,” Toby hiccuped. “They said that I wouldn’t be with Patton.”   
“They’re mean, and wrong,” Remus intercut, appalled, and he opened his arms, and Virgil transferred Toby into his embrace. The kid clung to him like a koala, crying into his shirt, and Remus wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug. “You’re never gonna be alone, you hear me? You’re coming home with me, and we’re not letting you go.”   
Toby giggle-sobbed, and snuggled into his chest.   
Remus felt his heart just _melt_ .   
“Virge, you were absolutely right,” he murmured as Virgil led the way out of the room. “You were absolutely right about wanting kids.”   
“I know, right?” Virgil hummed back quietly as Patton seemed to drift off in his arms, chin resting on Virgil’s shoulder. “I’d kill for them, and it’s been five minutes.”   
Remus let Toby get comfortable, and Toby watched their surroundings like he was memorising them, convinced it was the last time he’d see them.   
Remus was confident that it would be.

Toby and Patton roomed together. They had a room just for Toby, if he wanted, but both boys were _very_ insistent on the fact that they slept in the same room.   
Remus’ parents came around first, telling Remus it was ‘about time’ they got grandchildren.   
“I hate to think how you’ve been hassling Roman, then,” Remus rolled his eyes as he let them in. “He seems surprisingly happy on his own.”   
“Oh no,” said his mother, kissing him on the cheek as they entered. “I think Roman’s found himself. We were expecting them out of _you.”_   
Remus laughed at them, and closed the door after them.

The kids got along well with all the extended family, and soon they were off to school and pre-school, and they couldn’t be happier. A routine formed between the six of them, of drop-offs and pick-ups and making packed lunches and shopping for school supplies and Remus felt like he was run ragged at times, but more importantly, he felt _alive._ _  
_ He was the most able to work from home, so when the kids were sick, he was there. When it was school holidays, he was there. Virgil was pretty flexible as well, and Dante and Logan were adamant about making time.   
Patton and Toby grew into fine young men.   
Patton took after Virgil in the fact he was a very good writer, and found his beats writing storybooks, eventually.   
Toby took after Remus, having the artist’s touch. Remus proved to be a good coach as well as a father.   
... _Father._   
He was a father. They were all fathers.   
They fought over who got to be ‘dad’, initially. They ended up with Logan being ‘Papa’, Virgil being ‘Dad’, Dante being ‘ _Father_ ’ (because he was the fanciest, in Patton’s words), and Remus being ‘Da.’ A fair compromise, they decided. Though after some time, Toby had gone from calling Dante ‘father’ to just calling him ‘mom.’   
Dante accepted his designation with enthusiasm.

It was a sunny fall afternoon. The trees were golden and crismon outside, and the breeze was crisp, but fresh. It was a wonderful reminder that they were alive, and Remus was sitting at the table, nursing hot chocolates he’d made for him and the boys, now both at high school, and smiling dreamily out the window, watching a few leaves tumble to the ground on the soft breeze.   
Toby was tapping away at his phone, giggling to himself occasionally, but Patton looked up from his notebook at Remus with a questioning look.  
“You okay, Da?” he asked, and Remus snapped out of his contemplation to smile at his son _(his son!)._   
“You know it, buttercup,” he smiled, reaching over and ruffling Patton’s hair. “I was just thinking.”  
“About what?” Toby asked, looking up from his phone.  
Remus looked down at the table, his lips twisting as he tried to fight down another smile.  
“Let me be sappy for a few moments!” he declared. “I was thinking about the day I married your dads.”  
Patton squealed in delight as Toby put his phone down, curiosity shining in his eyes.  
“Tell us about it!” Patton gushed, bouncing in his seat.  
“I can do you one better,” Remus said with a grin, standing. “I’ll get the photo album and the scrapbook. Hang on!”  
And he scampered to get them from the place on the shelf they’d always sat since they’d moved into this house, and returned to spread them out on the table.  
Remus began to get misty-eyed as the boys poured over the pictures, gasping over the designs.  
“Mom looks beautiful!” Toby exclaimed, pointing out Dante’s dress.  
“Aw, Papa’s tie!” Patton cooed.  
“I feel like I should start from the beginning,” Remus mused, pulling over the scrapbook and turning to a certain page. It had a sketch on it. A sketch of two little boys, one dressed in green and one in yellow, with the green one holding out a toy dinosaur, half-covered in dirt.  
“Is that Mom?” Patton asked, pointing at the surprised little boy, reaching for the stegosaurus.  
“Is that you?” Toby asked, jabbing a finger at the green boy.  
“Yes, and yes,” Remus laughed. “Now, pull your chairs around and be quiet. I’m going to tell you a story.”  
And as Remus began to tell his story, _their_ story, with his two boys at his elbows and his wedding ring glinting in the autumn light, he could definitely say   
that Remus was happy.


End file.
